OFF THE TOP

THE LEAD

23,188 Signatures Could Force a Vote on Columbus City Council Power

Subscribe now

THE DAILY FIVE

Columbus State Wants a 10-Year Levy to Make Tuition Free for New Graduates

Columbus State Community College is preparing a possible November ballot issue that would create tuition-free enrollment for new high-school graduates who live in Franklin County.

The college is considering a 10-year, 1.9-mill levy expected to raise approximately $95 million per year. Its preliminary estimate says the levy would cost homeowners $67 annually for every $100,000 in home value—about $192 per year on a home valued at $288,000.

New graduates would need to enroll within one year of finishing high school and complete the FAFSA. Eligible students of any income level could attend tuition-free for up to six semesters. Other Franklin County residents would receive an estimated tuition reduction of $1,000 per academic year for a full-time course load. The benefits would begin in fall 2027 if voters approve the issue.

The Kin+ read: Free tuition is the headline. The levy is the machinery.

Voters should examine how much money goes directly toward tuition relief, how much supports staffing and facilities, and which outcomes the college will guarantee.

Enrollment is not the finish line.

Completion, employment and earnings are.

Central State’s Former CFO Faces a $105,057 Recovery Finding

Ohio’s auditor issued a finding for recovery of $105,057.10 against Central State University’s former chief financial officer over late pension-system payments.

Auditors said delayed employer contributions and employee payroll withholdings generated penalties and interest that could have been avoided. The finding covers payments due to two state retirement systems between 2021 and 2024. The audit also identified two dozen material weaknesses and deficiencies, while noting that one affiliated foundation failed to provide required records even after a subpoena.

The Kin+ read: Central State is Ohio’s only public HBCU.

That status is a reason for deeper accountability—not less.

Every dollar consumed by late fees, weak controls or preventable administrative failure is a dollar unavailable for students, faculty, facilities and institutional recovery.

Supporting a Black institution means protecting it from neglect inside the institution too.

Ohio’s New Police-Drone Law Creates a Long List of Warrant Exceptions

New Ohio statutes governing police drones take effect October 6.

The law requires a warrant when officers use a drone to enter or observe the interior of a home under circumstances in which a physical search would require judicial approval.

But police may conduct warrantless drone surveillance under several exceptions, including emergencies, traffic enforcement, crime-scene documentation, observation from navigable airspace, suspected criminal activity in public areas and threat assessments before large events.

Agencies must document flight data. Drone surveillance records generally qualify as public records unless another exemption applies, and armed law-enforcement drones are prohibited.

The Kin+ read: The protection is narrow.

The exceptions are broad.

The law says police generally need a warrant to look inside your home. It gives them substantial freedom to watch public spaces, events, traffic and neighborhoods from above.

The next fight is over local policy:

How long will footage be stored?

Will facial recognition be used?

Can footage be shared with ICE?

Will residents know when drones monitor a protest or community event?

The law authorizes the tool.

Local rules will determine how deeply it enters everyday life.

A Columbus Father Faces a Federal Gun Charge After His Toddler’s Death

Federal prosecutors charged a 35-year-old Columbus man with illegally possessing a firearm following the death of his 21-month-old son.

According to the criminal complaint, Columbus police responded to a Quinby Drive home July 11 and found the child suffering from a gunshot wound. Prosecutors allege the father later told police that the toddler found a 9mm handgun inside an open safe. The man has a prior aggravated-burglary conviction and is therefore prohibited from possessing firearms under federal law.

The charge is an allegation. The defendant is presumed innocent unless convicted.

The Kin+ read: The prosecution addresses what happened after an unsecured gun entered a home with a small child.

The public-safety assignment is preventing the next death.

Where are the safe-storage campaigns?

How easily can families obtain gun locks and safes?

What consequences exist before—not only after—a child finds a loaded weapon?

Punishment may establish accountability in one case.

Prevention is the measure of whether the community learned anything from it.

Trump Used a Prime-Time Address to Renew Disproven Election Claims

President Donald Trump used Thursday night’s address to accuse China of interfering in the 2020 election, release previously classified documents and press Congress to adopt stricter voter-identification and proof-of-citizenship rules.

Reuters found that the documents did not establish that China altered votes or election results. A 2021 U.S. intelligence assessment concluded that no foreign actor attempted or succeeded in changing voter registrations, ballots, vote tabulations or results. Some of the documents released Thursday either concerned foreign elections or assessed that large-scale manipulation of U.S. vote totals would be difficult.

Trump nevertheless renewed his support for legislation restricting mail voting and requiring additional identity and citizenship documentation.

The Kin+ read: The speech did not prove that the 2020 result was manipulated.

It used cybersecurity risks, voter-data collection and unrelated intelligence to create the impression that the result itself remains in doubt.

That distinction matters.

A system can possess vulnerabilities without a particular election being stolen.

Foreign governments can collect voter information without changing a single ballot.

The danger is using legitimate security concerns to justify barriers that block legitimate voters.

READ THE RECORD

Ohio Medicaid Oversees $40 Billion. Auditors Found Major Monitoring Gaps.

PULL UP TO THE COOKOUT

Columbus currently requires council members to live in districts—but lets the entire city vote in every district race.

Should each neighborhood elect only its own representative?

Or should council members continue answering to voters citywide?

Pull up and tell us which system creates real accountability—and what safeguards Columbus would need under a true ward model.

Leave a comment

WATCH TODAY

What Does the White House Mean by “Radical Left Terrorism”?

The Trump administration convened representatives from more than 60 countries Thursday to launch what it called an international campaign against “radical left terrorism.”

The White House said left-wing political violence should receive the same seriousness used against international jihadist terrorism. Secretary of State Marco Rubio announced plans for additional terrorist designations and visa restrictions.

Today, watch for the definitions and legal authorities.

• Which organizations may be designated?

• What conduct—not ideology—triggers action?

• Could lawful protest groups or political organizations be investigated?

• Will domestic intelligence collection expand?

• What sanctions, visa restrictions or financial controls will follow?

• Will the government distinguish clearly between violence, civil disobedience and protected political speech?

Black civil-rights and liberation movements have repeatedly been described by government agencies as security threats.

That history makes vague political labels dangerous.

The government must prosecute violence based on evidence.

It must not convert political disagreement into a terrorism category.

OFF THE TOP

THE LEAD

Columbus’ Flock Audit Raises a Basic Question: Who Was Watching Whom?

Subscribe now

THE DAILY FIVE

Trump Takes Election Claims to Primetime Tonight

The Occupant of the White House Donald Trump is scheduled to deliver a national address at 9 p.m. Eastern focused on elections, voting systems and what the White House calls “free and fair elections.”

Reuters reports that officials have considered releasing intelligence connected to alleged Chinese attempts or capabilities to interfere with the 2020 election. The available reporting has not established that any such activity altered votes or changed the result. Trump is also pressing for stricter citizenship-document and identification rules as Republicans prepare for the November midterms.

Why Kin Nation should care: Unsupported claims about widespread fraud do not remain confined to speeches. They can become the justification for citizenship-document requirements, voter-roll challenges, restrictions on mail voting and greater federal pressure on state and local election officials.

The Kin+ read: Do not listen only for what Trump says happened in 2020.

Listen for what he says the government should do in 2026.

The allegation is the headline.

The requested power is the story.

The Federal Government Rewrote a Slavery Exhibit at George Washington’s Philadelphia Home

The Trump administration replaced exhibit panels at the President’s House site in Philadelphia, where George Washington lived with nine enslaved people while serving as president.

The original exhibition centered the lives and experiences of the people Washington enslaved. The revised panels continue to acknowledge slavery, but Philadelphia officials and historical advocates say the new presentation shifts attention toward Washington and softens the violence and coercion at the center of enslavement. Federal officials say the revisions provide fuller historical context.

The panels were installed after a federal appeals ruling allowed the administration to proceed despite Philadelphia’s legal challenge.

Why Kin Nation should care: This is not a fight over vocabulary at one tourist site.

It is a fight over who has the authority to define the American story.

The Kin+ read: The federal government did not erase every reference to slavery.

It did something more subtle.

It changed the center of gravity.

And when the people who endured slavery are pushed toward the margins of an exhibit built around their lives, the institution is not merely revising history.

It is redistributing public sympathy.

Trump Is Preparing Another Election Legitimacy Fight

President Donald Trump is expected to deliver a national address Thursday night about newly declassified intelligence connected to the 2020 election and what the White House describes as vulnerabilities in voting machines.

Election officials and cybersecurity experts have said no evidence has established that foreign intrusion or voting-machine manipulation changed the result of the 2020 election. Numerous courts, audits and Trump’s first-term Justice Department also found no evidence supporting his claims of widespread fraud.

The speech comes before the November midterms and as the administration has pushed for greater federal influence over election administration.

Why it matters: Black voting power has historically been weakened through mechanisms presented as neutral administration—poll closures, voter-roll removals, identification requirements, aggressive challenges and unequal access.

The Kin+ read: Do not merely listen for what Trump says happened in 2020. Listen for what he says should be done in 2026.

The speech is the message.

The policy being prepared behind the message may be the real story.

The FCC Could Let One Television Owner Reach More of the Country

The Federal Communications Commission is scheduled to vote August 6 on a proposal to eliminate the national television-ownership cap that generally prevents one station owner from reaching more than 39% of U.S. television households.

FCC Chair Brendan Carr argues the cap is outdated because traditional broadcasters now compete with national streaming and technology platforms. His proposal would instead permit transactions exceeding the limit through case-by-case review.

Commissioner Anna Gomez and public-interest advocates argue the move could accelerate consolidation, weaken competition and reduce local viewpoint diversity. Critics also contend that Congress—not the FCC—set the cap and must change it.

Why Kin Nation should care: Ownership determines whose newsroom survives, whose advertising revenue stays local and whose editorial priorities dominate the public airwaves.

The Kin+ read: Streaming changed the market.

That does not mean the answer is allowing the largest broadcast corporations to own more of what remains.

A media system with fewer owners may be more efficient for the corporation.

It is not automatically healthier for democracy—or for Black, local and independent media.

Ohio’s Haitian Community Faces a July 24 Work-Permit Deadline

Federal guidance temporarily extended employment authorization for Haitian Temporary Protected Status beneficiaries through July 24 while litigation over the program continues.

TPS allows eligible people from countries facing war, disaster or extraordinary instability to live and work legally in the United States. The Supreme Court recently allowed the administration to move forward with ending protections for Haitian and Syrian beneficiaries while legal challenges proceed.

The deadline has direct consequences for Ohio, particularly Springfield, where Haitian workers have become part of the local manufacturing, service, housing, school and church infrastructure.

Why Kin Nation should care: A federal document determines whether thousands of people may continue earning wages, paying rent and supporting their families.

Employers may lose workers.

Families may lose income.

Children may face instability.

Churches and social-service organizations may absorb another emergency.

The Kin+ read: Washington discusses TPS as immigration policy.

Ohio will experience it as payroll, housing, school enrollment and family survival.

July 24 is not an abstract legal date.

It is a cliff.

Trump Fired the Judges’ Choice for Seattle’s Top Federal Prosecutor

Federal judges in Washington’s Western District appointed former prosecutor and state judge Roger Rogoff as U.S. attorney after the office had gone years without a Senate-confirmed leader.

Less than an hour after Rogoff was sworn in, Trump removed him.

Acting Attorney General Todd Blanche confirmed the dismissal and criticized the judges for making the appointment without consulting the administration. Rogoff said he was considering legal action challenging the removal.

Federal law permits district judges to appoint a U.S. attorney when an interim appointment expires, but the administration argues the president retains removal authority. That conflict may now be tested in court.

Why Kin Nation should care: U.S. attorneys make decisions involving federal prosecutions, public corruption, civil rights, police misconduct and government enforcement.

The Kin+ read: The immediate fight is about one prosecutor in Seattle.

The institutional fight is about whether federal judges can fill a lawful vacancy when the White House refuses—and whether the president can erase their choice immediately.

Who controls the prosecutor controls an extraordinary amount of power.

READ THE RECORD

Todd Blanche Said the $1.8 Billion Fund Was Dead. The Legal Settlement Was Not.

PULL UP TO THE COOKOUT

Columbus says its cameras help solve crimes.

The audit says the system was searched approximately 15,000 times for immigration-related purposes.

What would real accountability look like before the city keeps using the network?

A public map?

A warrant requirement?

A ban on civil immigration searches?

Quarterly audits?

Automatic termination after misuse?

Pull up and tell us where the line should be.

Leave a comment

Kin Nation,

Let me say something plainly that may upset people who confuse visibility with power:

A Black face on television is not the same as a Black-led press.

A Black reporter getting hired by a major news organization is progress. A Black anchor sitting behind a national desk matters. Black journalists, producers, editors, photographers, and commentators have fought hard to enter rooms that were built to keep us out.

But being allowed into the room is not the same as owning the room.

Representation may influence who delivers the story. Ownership helps determine which stories get assigned, which questions get asked, whose comfort gets protected, what gets buried, and whether the newsroom will still care after the national cameras leave.

That distinction is why we still need a Black-led press.

We built our own press because the truth required it

In 1827, Samuel Cornish and John Russwurm founded Freedom’s Journal, the first Black-owned and operated newspaper in the United States.

Their reason was direct:

“We wish to plead our own cause. Too long have others spoken for us.”

Nearly two hundred years later, that sentence still tells the story.

The Black press did not emerge because our ancestors wanted their own little diversity section. They built newspapers because the White press routinely ignored Black life, distorted Black people, defended slavery, excused racial violence, and treated us as objects to be described instead of human beings capable of speaking for ourselves.

Frederick Douglass used The North Star to fight slavery.

Ida B. Wells used journalism to expose the truth about lynching when much of the nation’s press repeated the lies used to justify it.

The Chicago Defender helped Black Southerners understand the possibilities of the Great Migration.

The Pittsburgh Courier launched the Double V campaign, demanding victory against fascism overseas and racism at home.

Ebony and Jet documented Black America when mainstream magazines either caricatured us or acted as if we did not exist. When Jet published the images of Emmett Till, it forced America to confront what racism had done to a child.

The Black press has never been a side project.

It has been movement infrastructure.

Join the #KinFam

Black visibility is not Black ownership

Today, we can see more Black people across television, digital media, podcasts, streaming platforms, and social media.

That visibility matters—but visibility can create a dangerous illusion.

It can make us believe that because Black people appear on the screen, Black communities now control the story.

We do not.

A Black journalist can still have their pitch rejected.

A Black editor can still be overruled.

A Black correspondent can be sent to cover our pain after the shooting, the protest, or the scandal—but denied the time and resources needed to investigate the policies that created the conditions.

A company can celebrate Black History Month in February and cut its Black reporters in March.

A platform can profit from Black culture while an algorithm decides whether Black-owned media gets to reach the audience it built.

A seat is not a deed.

Access is not ownership.

And representation without decision-making power can become decoration.

Black-led does not mean Black-controlled propaganda

Now, let me make the other side of this argument just as clear.

A Black-led press should not exist to flatter every Black politician, protect every Black institution, promote every Black business, or excuse wrongdoing because the person doing it looks like us.

That is not journalism. That is public relations wearing kente cloth.

Kin+ does not exist to tell Black people that we are right about everything.

It exists to tell the truth about what is happening to us, around us, for us—and sometimes because of us.

A serious Black press must be willing to question the mayor, the governor, the police chief, the school board, the pastor, the nonprofit executive, the business owner, and the community leader.

If public money is moving, we should follow it.

If somebody is making decisions that affect our neighborhoods, we should name them.

If a Black institution is serving the people, we should document it.

If it is failing the people, we should document that too.

We do not need a Black press that lies for Black people.

We need one that refuses to lie about Black people—and refuses to lie to Black people.

Subscribe now

Black Columbus knows what happens when the newsroom goes quiet

This is not an abstract conversation for me.

Black Columbus once had press institutions dedicated to recording our lives and watching local power.

The Columbus Call & Post served this city from 1962 to 1995. The Columbus Post carried that work from 1995 to 2015. Earlier publications—including The Ohio State News—also documented Black life in this city and across Ohio.

Then the daily habit of a dedicated Black Columbus newsroom went quiet.

But City Council kept voting.

The Statehouse kept passing legislation.

The courts kept making decisions.

Police cases kept happening.

School boards kept shaping the futures of Black children.

Developers kept moving into Black neighborhoods.

Public contracts kept being awarded.

Budgets kept revealing what government considered important—and who it considered expendable.

The decisions did not stop because the Black press weakened.

The decisions simply became harder for our people to track.

Kin+ exists because that gap is unacceptable.

Kin+ is not being built to chase every headline

We are building Kin+ to become an independent Black newsroom and public-trust institution rooted in Black Columbus and connected to Black America.

That means we will report the breaking story—but we will also explain the system underneath it.

We will cover politics, but we will not reduce politics to elections and personalities.

We will cover Black businesses, but paid visibility will never purchase favorable journalism.

We will report our pain without turning Black trauma into engagement bait.

We will document Black culture, joy, invention, leadership, work, family, faith, and ordinary life—not just the moments when something terrible happens to us.

And we will keep asking the questions that define our work:

Who is getting paid?

Who is getting played?

Who is building?

And who is being forced to pay the cost?

That is what a Black-led press can do when its relationship is with the people instead of a political party, corporate owner, wealthy gatekeeper, or algorithm.

Subscribe now

The Black press cannot survive on compliments

Here comes the grown-folks part of the conversation.

Everybody says they support independent Black media.

But Black media cannot operate on likes, reposts, compliments, and crisis traffic.

Journalism costs money.

Records cost money. Equipment costs money. Technology costs money. Travel costs money. Reporting takes time. Investigations take even more time. Building an institution capable of serving our people every day requires more than applause when we publish something powerful.

It requires ownership-minded support.

That is why KinFam matters.

KinFam is not a tip jar. It is the paid community helping keep Kin+ independent, Black-owned, and accountable to the people it was built to serve.

You can join for $12.99 a month or $129 a year. Those ready to help lay the foundation at a higher level can enter the KinFam Founders Circle for $500 a year.

Membership will never buy favorable coverage, silence, or protection.

It funds the independence required to tell the truth.

The receipts are free to read.

The newsroom is not free to run.

Subscribe now

We still need to plead our own cause

We still need a Black-led press because other people are still trying to define us.

We still need it because policies affecting Black communities are still written without Black communities in the room.

We still need it because national attention is temporary, but local consequences are not.

We still need it because Black children deserve to see their communities documented as more than danger zones.

We still need it because our businesses, institutions, elders, organizers, artists, workers, families, and neighborhoods deserve a permanent record.

We still need it because power behaves differently when it knows somebody is watching.

And we still need it because Black America should never have to depend entirely on somebody else’s newsroom to decide whether our truth is worth publishing.

The Black press is not nostalgia.

It is not a diversity initiative.

It is not a content vertical.

It is infrastructure.

That is what we are building with Kin+.

If you believe our people deserve a newsroom that does not wait for permission, read the work, share it with your people, and become KinFam.

We have pleaded our own cause for nearly two hundred years.

Now it is time to own the institution carrying it forward.

Welcome home.

— DaVante’ Goins
Founder & CEO, Kin Worldwide
Founder, Kin+

Leave a comment

Subscribe now

OFF THE TOP

THE LEAD

ICE Killed a Man Who Wasn’t the Target

Subscribe now

THE DAILY FIVE

BLACK AMERICA WATCH

Nolan Wells’ Family Is Still Waiting for the Most Basic Answer

The investigation into the death of 18-year-old Nolan Xavier Wells continues, but authorities have not released an official cause or manner of death.

Wells disappeared during a July 4 trip to Horn Island, Mississippi. His body was found in the water more than a day later. The Jackson County Sheriff’s Office has said it does not currently suspect foul play, but investigators are still gathering witness accounts, photographs, videos and other evidence.

Wells’ family, represented by civil-rights attorney Ben Crump, is pursuing an independent investigation and autopsy. The family has raised questions about conflicting timelines, why Wells was allegedly left on the island and why he was separated from his phone and keys.

Why it matters: The responsible position is neither blind acceptance nor social-media prosecution. The responsible position is demanding an investigation complete enough to withstand both.

What happens next: Official and independent autopsy findings remain pending. Until those records are released, every claim about precisely how Wells died should be treated with caution.

THE NEW BLACK ECONOMY

Inflation Cooled. The Household Economy Is Still Hot.

The Consumer Price Index fell 0.4% in June, bringing annual inflation down to 3.5% from 4.2% in May. Core inflation—which excludes food and energy—was unchanged for the month and rose 2.6% over the year.

That sounds like relief.

But look underneath the headline.

Gasoline prices fell 9.7% during June and drove much of the overall decline. Those prices have already started climbing again as conflict involving the United States and Iran has intensified.

Food prices still rose 0.2% during June. Shelter rose another 0.1%. Food away from home is up 3.4% over the year, while shelter is up 3.3%.

Why it matters: Black households generally have less liquid wealth available to absorb price shocks. Inflation can slow nationally while rent, groceries, utilities and transportation remain painfully expensive at the kitchen table.

The Kin+ read: Wall Street measures the direction of inflation. Families live with the accumulated price level. Slower increases do not put yesterday’s money back into anybody’s pocket.

POLITICS AND POWER

Trump Is Preparing Another Election Legitimacy Fight

President Donald Trump is expected to deliver a national address Thursday night about newly declassified intelligence connected to the 2020 election and what the White House describes as vulnerabilities in voting machines.

Election officials and cybersecurity experts have said no evidence has established that foreign intrusion or voting-machine manipulation changed the result of the 2020 election. Numerous courts, audits and Trump’s first-term Justice Department also found no evidence supporting his claims of widespread fraud.

The speech comes before the November midterms and as the administration has pushed for greater federal influence over election administration.

Why it matters: Black voting power has historically been weakened through mechanisms presented as neutral administration—poll closures, voter-roll removals, identification requirements, aggressive challenges and unequal access.

The Kin+ read: Do not merely listen for what Trump says happened in 2020. Listen for what he says should be done in 2026.

The speech is the message.

The policy being prepared behind the message may be the real story.

COURTS AND ACCOUNTABILITY

The Supreme Court Wants More Protection—and More Money

Supreme Court Justices Elena Kagan and Amy Coney Barrett are appearing before Congress as the court requests approximately $228 million for the next fiscal year, roughly 10% more than its current budget.

Nearly $15 million would expand personal protection for the justices, while another $2 million would support an off-site residential-security post and faster emergency responses.

The U.S. Marshals Service reported 564 threats against federal judges during the last fiscal year. Threats, intimidation and swatting incidents against judges are real and unacceptable.

But the court is also making this request after years of declining public confidence, expansive rulings on presidential authority and unresolved ethics criticism.

Why it matters: The judiciary cannot function if judges fear violence for issuing decisions. But physical security cannot become a substitute for institutional accountability.

The Kin+ read: Protect the judges. Protect the public’s right to enforceable ethics, disclosure and transparency too.

Those principles are not enemies.

MONEY AND DEVELOPMENT

Columbus, OH Development Money Is Moving Through an Authority Few Residents Know

The Jeffrey Place New Community Authority is scheduled to hold an organizational and fiscal meeting today involving Jeffrey Park, Grant Park and Weinland Park Homes.

The board is expected to consider:

• Electing its officers.

• Budgeting and appropriating available funds.

• Levying a community-development charge.

• Issuing bonds to acquire and construct additional public improvements.

• Adopting a virtual-meeting policy.

The meeting is open to the public and scheduled for 10 a.m. at 842 N. Fourth Street.

Why it matters: New community authorities can impose charges, issue debt and finance infrastructure tied to private development. Those decisions affect property costs, neighborhood development and who captures the value created by public improvements.

The Kin+ read: Weinland Park has already experienced dramatic redevelopment and demographic change. The unanswered questions are how much debt is being issued, who pays the development charge and which property owners receive the benefit.

PULL UP TO THE COOKOUT

Today’s question:

When a government agency uses force, moves public money or changes the rules, what evidence should it be required to release before asking the public to trust its explanation?

Pull up and tell us what public accountability should actually look like.

Leave a comment

A federal immigration operation in Biddeford, Maine, ended Monday morning with a man dead who was not the person agents had gone there to find.

A U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement officer fatally shot a 26-year-old Colombian man after agents attempted to stop a vehicle leaving an address under surveillance. The Department of Homeland Security said agents were watching the last known address of a person with a final removal order.

The man who was killed was not that person.

DHS said the vehicle attempted to flee and that an officer, “fearing for public safety,” fired his weapon. Maine Sen. Angus King provided a more specific account after speaking with Homeland Security Secretary Markwayne Mullin: King said he was told the driver attempted to use the vehicle as a weapon against the agents.

Those explanations are related.

They are not identical.

And the distinction between somebody attempting to leave and somebody attempting to run down an officer may determine whether the use of deadly force was legally justified.

Subscribe now

The federal account changed before the day was over

For much of Monday, elected officials and the public were receiving information indirectly from federal authorities.

King initially said he had been told that the man killed was the subject of an immigration arrest warrant. His office later said Mullin conveyed corrected information: the person ICE killed was not the target of the warrant.

That correction is not a minor detail.

It establishes that federal officials circulated a materially inaccurate description of the operation before the evidence had been fully examined or the public record had been settled. Reuters reported that DHS’s initial public statement did not explain precisely how the vehicle allegedly threatened officers or bystanders.

This does not prove that the government’s final account will be false.

It proves that its first account was incomplete—and, on a central point, wrong.

That is why official statements should be treated as evidence to examine, not conclusions the public is required to accept.

There were no body cameras

King said the ICE agents involved were not wearing body cameras.

That leaves the public without footage from the perspective of the officer who fired, the agents attempting the stop or the driver inside the vehicle. The absence of body-camera video places greater weight on surveillance recordings, physical evidence, witness accounts and any available traffic or bystander footage.

Reuters verified one video showing the vehicle moving while two men wearing law-enforcement vests attempted to stop it, but the outlet could not determine whether the footage was recorded before or after the shooting. A Reuters photograph of the vehicle showed what appeared to be four bullet holes through the driver’s side of the windshield.

A nearby witness told Reuters that he saw an officer pull the wounded driver from the vehicle. The witness said the man appeared to say that he had tried to stop before becoming unresponsive. That account has not yet been reconciled with the government’s description of the vehicle as a threat.

The investigation must establish:

Where the officer was positioned when he fired.

Which direction the vehicle was moving.

Whether any person was directly in its path.

How many rounds were fired.

Where those rounds entered the vehicle.

What commands agents gave before the shooting.

Whether the driver had a realistic and safe path to comply.

Those are not technical side questions.

They are the difference between an assertion of danger and proof that deadly force was necessary.

Share

What is known about the man ICE killed

Immigrant-rights organizations identified the person killed as a 26-year-old Colombian man. They said he was authorized to work in the United States and had a Social Security number.

A work authorization does not, by itself, answer every question about a person’s immigration status. Federal authorities had not publicly released a full account of his status or formally identified him at the time of this report.

The Colombian Embassy said it was communicating with U.S. officials and providing consular assistance to his family. Community members told the Associated Press that he lived nearby with his wife and daughter.

Kin+ is not publishing a name until it has been confirmed by authorities, the family or authorized representatives.

That is not hesitation.

That is the standard.

This is not merely an immigration story

ICE is often discussed as though its work begins and ends with documents, detention orders and deportation proceedings.

But this operation shows the agency exercising the most consequential form of domestic government power.

Its agents conducted surveillance.

They followed or intercepted a vehicle.

They carried firearms.

One of them used deadly force.

ICE is functioning as a federal policing institution, whether or not the national political conversation chooses to describe it that way.

When an ICE officer kills somebody, the accountability standard cannot be weaker than the standard demanded after a fatal police shooting. A federal badge does not make evidence less necessary. An immigration operation does not make deadly force less final.

The Biddeford shooting was the second fatal use of force involving ICE in less than a week. Six days earlier, an ICE officer fatally shot a man during an operation in Houston, Texas. That case has also produced disputes over what happened and whether the government’s description is supported by the available evidence.

The repetition raises a broader question:

What use-of-force doctrine is ICE applying during vehicle encounters, and who outside the agency is reviewing whether that doctrine is constitutional, necessary and safe?

Purchase Today

The Black immigration blind spot

Immigration is frequently discussed in the United States as though it affects one racial or ethnic community.

It does not.

Black immigrants, African immigrants, Afro-Latino families and mixed-status Black households can face immigration enforcement layered on top of racial profiling, unequal policing and the economic vulnerability experienced throughout Black America.

That intersection is often missing from mainstream immigration coverage.

Kin+ will not miss it.

When federal immigration enforcement expands its armed presence in American neighborhoods, that expansion matters to every community historically subjected to state surveillance, aggressive stops and official explanations that arrive before the evidence.

The badge may change.

The accountability problem is familiar.

Who controls the investigation?

The FBI responded to the scene, and the Maine Attorney General’s Office said it was actively investigating the shooting. State and federal involvement is necessary, but the public still needs clarity about which agency has custody of the evidence, which agency is leading the use-of-force review and whether the findings will be publicly released.

The public should not have to wait months to learn:

• The name of the officer who fired.

• Whether the officer had prior use-of-force complaints.

• ICE’s vehicle-interdiction and deadly-force policies.

• Why the agents lacked body cameras.

• The complete legal authority for the attempted stop.

• The operational plan and warrant connected to the surveillance.

• The number and trajectory of the bullets fired.

• What video exists and which agency possesses it.

• Whether the medical examiner’s findings support the official timeline.

• Whether an outside prosecutor will review the shooting.

These records should not be treated as favors the government may eventually release.

They are the evidence necessary to determine whether the government lawfully took a life.

Now here’s the read

The central question is not simply whether the driver attempted to leave.

The central question is whether the government’s use of deadly force was lawful, necessary and proportionate—and whether the evidence will be released quickly enough for the public to evaluate that claim independently.

The government selected the address.

The government initiated the encounter.

The government carried the weapon.

The government fired the fatal shot.

The government controlled the scene.

And now the same government is supplying the first explanation of what happened.

That does not make its account automatically false.

It means its account cannot be the final word.

Not when a man is dead.

Not when he was not the person agents were looking for.

Not when federal officials had to correct their first description of the operation.

Not when there is no body-camera footage from the agents involved.

Accountability begins when the institution no longer controls the only version of the truth.

Subscribe now

Leave a comment

The investigation into the death of 18-year-old Nolan Xavier Wells now has another public account.

It still does not have a publicly released cause and manner of death, a complete evidentiary timeline or a clear answer explaining what happened after Wells was last seen alive on Horn Island.

Tracestin Shepherd, one of the friends who traveled to the Mississippi barrier island with Wells on July 4, is challenging the way one widely shared video has been presented online. Shepherd says Wells is not the person yelling or arguing in the footage. He says the voice heard in the video is his own.

Shepherd also maintains that Wells voluntarily remained on Horn Island after meeting a young woman and expected to leave with another group. He has defended the friends who accompanied Wells, saying they did nothing to harm him and have faced online threats as speculation surrounding the case has intensified.

That account matters.

But it does not settle the case.

The viral video may have been misidentified

For days, social-media users circulated footage that some claimed showed Wells involved in an altercation shortly before his disappearance.

Shepherd now says that interpretation is wrong.

According to his account, Wells does not appear in the clip and was not involved in the confrontation being recorded. Another friend, Jayvon Williams, has also publicly disputed the claim that the viral footage shows Wells fighting or arguing.

If those accounts are accurate, one of the most emotionally powerful pieces of supposed evidence circulating online may have been misidentified.

That would substantially change what the video can responsibly be used to claim.

It would not answer what happened to Wells after the people traveling with him separated.

A disputed video can be removed from the theory of the case without resolving the case itself.

Subscribe now

The friends’ account and the family’s questions remain in conflict

The Jackson County Sheriff’s Office has said its understanding is that Wells chose to remain on Horn Island after others departed.

Wells’ family has questioned that explanation.

Their attorney, Ben Crump, has pointed to inconsistencies in witness accounts and has said there is conflicting information about whether Wells intended to remain behind or believed he would be leaving the island.

The family has also questioned why Wells would voluntarily stay without his cellphone, keys or a confirmed means of returning to the mainland.

Crump’s office says Wells was last seen at approximately 3 p.m. on July 4 and did not return with the group. His mother reported him missing that night. A multi-agency search followed, and his body was found near Horn Island on the morning of July 6.

Those facts establish the outer boundaries of the timeline.

They do not explain what happened inside it.

The cellphone could become a critical piece of evidence

The handling of Wells’ phone remains one of the most consequential unresolved issues.

Shepherd has said Wells left his phone with other devices on a boat because he expected to spend the day in the water. Wells’ family has expressed concern that the phone returned to the mainland without him and has questioned its location history and whether messages were deleted.

Those concerns have not been confirmed as forensic findings.

That distinction matters.

The phone may contain location records, message history, application activity, photographs, timestamps and other data capable of supporting—or contradicting—parts of the public timeline. But until a qualified forensic review is completed and its findings are disclosed, claims about deleted material or device activity remain unresolved allegations rather than established evidence.

Investigators have requested access to the device, and the family’s legal team is pursuing its own review.

Share

The sheriff’s office remains the lead investigating agency

The Jackson County Sheriff’s Office is conducting the local death investigation.

The department has asked anyone who was near the northwestern portion of Horn Island on July 4 to provide original photographs, videos or firsthand witness information. Investigators specifically requested unedited material that could show Wells, any altercation or other unusual activity.

The sheriff’s office has also warned that social-media rumors and unsupported claims can interfere with its work, saying investigators are attempting to establish the facts through eyewitness testimony, physical evidence and other reliable information.

Sheriff John Ledbetter has said the people who traveled with Wells have cooperated with investigators. Authorities have publicly indicated that drowning is their working theory and that they had not identified evidence of foul play at the time of their statements.

But a working theory is not the same as a publicly released final medical determination.

The investigation remains active, and the sheriff himself has said authorities are still waiting for accurate information and the truth of what happened to emerge.

The autopsy remains central

An official autopsy was conducted, and the family commissioned an independent autopsy in Washington, D.C.

Crump has said the independent examination is part of a broader effort to scrutinize the timeline, interview witnesses and evaluate the circumstances surrounding Wells’ death.

Earlier local reporting said independent findings were expected as soon as July 10. But Kin+ could not verify that either the official final report or the independent autopsy findings had been publicly released as of this update.

Until those findings are disclosed, the most basic medical question remains unanswered:

What caused Nolan Wells’ death, and what was the manner of that death?

Without that information, neither the public nor the family can determine whether the physical evidence supports an accidental drowning, points toward another explanation or requires further investigation.

Hundreds march for transparency

The demand for answers has moved beyond Wells’ immediate family.

Hundreds of people gathered in Ocean Springs over the weekend to remember Wells and call for transparency. The peaceful demonstration brought together residents of different ages who marched, carried signs and demanded that the investigation continue until the circumstances of Wells’ death are fully explained.

The protest was not itself evidence that a crime occurred.

It was evidence that the official explanation has not yet produced public confidence.

That distinction should not be dismissed.

Community distrust does not prove foul play. But law enforcement cannot resolve that distrust merely by repeating a preliminary theory. It requires documentation, consistent chronology, medical evidence and transparent communication about what has and has not been established.

Purchase Today

Now, the read

There are two reckless shortcuts available in this case.

The first is social-media prosecution.

That is the decision to identify villains, assign criminal responsibility and treat viral content as dispositive evidence before its subjects, origin and context have been authenticated.

The second is premature institutional closure.

That is the decision to treat an early law-enforcement theory as the complete answer before the autopsy, phone evidence, witness accounts and search timeline have been reconciled.

Kin+ isn't taking neither shortcut.

The young people who were with Wells should not be convicted by an algorithm. Online threats do not produce truth, and a mislabeled video can poison an investigation as easily as a withheld fact.

But Wells’ parents should not be pressured to accept an incomplete account simply because investigators have not publicly announced evidence of a crime.

Both principles can stand together:

1. Do not accuse people without evidence.

2. Do not declare the matter settled without evidence.

The friend’s new statement may correct part of the public narrative. It does not close the larger evidentiary gap.

It does not establish why Wells remained—or was left—on the island.

It does not establish who last saw him alive.

It does not establish the full custody and contents of his phone.

It does not establish when every agency was notified and what information each agency received.

And it does not establish the medical cause and manner of his death.

A viral clip is not a forensic timeline.

A working theory is not an autopsy report.

And the absence of publicly identified foul play is not the same as a completed investigation.

What this means for us

Black families should not have to choose between resisting misinformation and demanding accountability.

We are capable of doing both.

We can reject falsely identified videos, AI-generated imagery, unsupported accusations, and social-media vigilantism.

We can also insist that authorities release a coherent timeline, explain investigative decisions, preserve digital evidence, and disclose the medical findings when legally and ethically permitted.

That is not conspiracy.

That is the basic standard of public trust.

The Wells family deserves a conclusion supported by evidence strong enough to withstand scrutiny.

The friends deserve to have their statements judged against the record rather than online speculation.

And the public deserves to know the difference between what investigators believe, what witnesses claim, and what the evidence proves.

The move

Anyone who was on or near Horn Island on July 4 and possesses original photographs, videos or firsthand information should submit it directly to investigators.

Original files should be preserved without cropping, editing, filtering or repeatedly uploading them through social platforms. Original media may contain timestamps, location data and other metadata that reposted versions lose.

Everyone else should stop circulating material that has not been authenticated.

The next meaningful developments should come from:

• the official cause and manner of death;

• the independent autopsy findings;

• a forensic review of Wells’ phone;

• a reconciled witness timeline;

• original photographs and videos from Horn Island;

• and a complete accounting of the missing-person and search response.

Nolan Wells’ family does not need another viral theory.

They need a timeline that can survive the evidence.

His friends do not need an online trial.

Their accounts need to be tested against the record.

And the public does not need another premature declaration.

It needs the truth.

Welcome home.

Editor’s note: This is a developing story. Kin+ has separated confirmed information from witness accounts, family claims and unresolved questions. We will update this report when official or independent autopsy findings, forensic evidence or additional investigative records become publicly available.

Kin Nation,

Let me tell you plainly: I did not build Kin+ because the internet needed another Black news page.

We have plenty of pages.

Pages that repost our pain. Pages that chase outrage. Pages that turn Black stories into clicks, views, and advertising dollars—then move on when the algorithm gets bored.

Kin+ was built because Black people deserve something deeper than content.

We deserve an institution.

I have spent more than fifteen years working in independent media. I have seen what happens when our stories are ignored, distorted, softened, or told by people who do not understand us. I have also seen what happens when Black-owned media lacks the money, infrastructure, and community support necessary to survive.

That is the part folks do not always want to talk about.

Everybody says Black media matters. But “matter” does not pay reporters, send people into the field, purchase equipment, fight public-records battles, maintain technology, or keep the lights on.

Applause is nice. Ownership is better.

Join the #KinFam

The newsroom went quiet. The decisions did not.

Black Columbus once had its own press institutions.

The Columbus Call & Post reported on this city from 1962 to 1995. The Columbus Post carried that responsibility from 1995 to 2015.

Then the newsroom went quiet.

But City Council kept voting.

The Statehouse kept passing laws.

Police cases kept happening. School boards kept making decisions. Eviction courts kept moving. Public money kept changing hands. Institutions kept deciding what Black neighborhoods would receive, what we would lose, and how long we would be expected to wait.

The decisions never stopped.

What disappeared was the Black newsroom consistently watching those decisions, connecting the dots, and reporting what they meant for us.

That gap is unacceptable.

Kin+ is rooted in Black Columbus, but our vision reaches across Black America. Because whether the story is unfolding in Columbus, Tulsa, Atlanta, Jackson, Chicago, or Washington, the fundamental questions remain the same:

Who is getting paid?

Who is getting played?

Who is building?

And who is being forced to pay the cost?

This is bigger than reporting the news

Kin+ is the trust engine of Kin Worldwide.

That means we are not simply trying to tell you what happened. We are building the infrastructure our people need to understand power, protect our communities, support Black businesses, make informed decisions, and own more of our future.

We are going to follow the money.

We are going to read the legislation.

We are going to name the people and institutions making the decisions.

We are going to celebrate Black people who are building—and hold accountable those who are blocking the way.

And we are not going to reduce Black life to crime, trauma, elections, and celebrity foolishness. Black life is bigger than what happened to us. Our journalism must also document what we are creating.

I am not interested in building a page that goes viral today and disappears tomorrow.

I am building an institution that can outlive me.

Welcome to The Cookout

The Cookout is where Kin+ comes directly to you.

We have been building through Substack since around 2021 and 2022. After our former website was hacked, I used Substack to help rebuild UnBossed Columbus and the UnBossed 614 Streaming Network. This platform gave us a way to reconnect with our people and keep moving when losing our website could have ended the whole operation.

I have not forgotten that.

But I also learned an important lesson: a platform can help carry the work, but it cannot own the mission.

That is why The Cookout will serve as the newsletter and community table for Kin+. It is where Kin Daily lands in your inbox, where I can speak directly to Kin Nation, and where we can gather without waiting for an algorithm to decide whether our own people should hear from us.

The Cookout is the front porch.

Kin+ is the house.

And Kin Nation is the family coming through the door.

Subscribe now

Independence has a price

Let’s have some grown-folks conversation.

Independent Black media is not free to operate.

If we want journalism that does not answer to political parties, corporate advertisers, wealthy gatekeepers, or whoever happens to be writing the biggest check, then the people who believe in the work must help finance the work.

That is what KinFam is for.

KinFam is not a tip jar. It is the paid community helping keep this newsroom Black-owned, independent, and accountable to the people it was built to serve.

Your membership does not purchase favorable coverage. It does not buy silence. It does not put anybody above accountability.

It helps ensure that Kin+ can keep showing up, asking questions, pulling records, producing videos, explaining what power is doing, and telling the stories other newsrooms overlook.

The receipts are free to read.

The newsroom is not free to run.

Subscribe now

What I am asking from you

If you are reading this for free, you are part of Kin Nation—and you belong here.

Read the stories. Share them with your people. Bring the information into the group chat, the barbershop, the church basement, the boardroom, and the family gathering. Talk back. Send us receipts. Help us build the habit of staying informed through media created for us.

And when you are ready to move from reading the work to helping sustain it, become KinFam.

Because Black America does not simply need a voice.

We need to own the microphone.

We need to own the studio.

We need to own the newsroom, the technology, the distribution, and the relationship with our people.

That is why we built Kin+.

Pull up a chair, Kin Nation.

The Cookout is open.

Welcome home.

— DaVante’ Goins
Founder & CEO, Kin Worldwide
Founder, Kin+

He was five years old in the bathtub at his grandmother’s house, singing the only song stuck in his head. Pocahontas. “Colors of the Wind.”

His grandmother came running.

“Sing it again,” she said. “Sing it again.” Then she picked up the landline — back when phones still had cords — and called everyone who needed to hear it. By that Sunday, he was in the church choir, the way most Black children with a voice end up in the church choir. By the year after, he had an agent. Most second-graders do not have an agent.

Dre has known since he was five that he was made for the stage. What he is doing now is finally bringing the rest of Columbus with him.

On this episode of TalkBack, Kin+’s weekly podcast, I sat down with Columbus singer-songwriter Dre — known to many through his work with the legendary local band Liquid Crystal Project — as the opening conversation in our Arts Festival Sessions, a five-episode special series previewing this year’s Columbus Arts Festival, in partnership with the Greater Columbus Arts Council.

He is the first of five. He sets the tone for the four that follow.

On why he came here

Dre is not from Columbus. He moved fifteen years ago for one reason: he heard Liquid Crystal Project play a soundcheck and could not bring himself to leave. He told me what he and his friend Cece — now Cece Arrington — said to each other in the bathroom that night. They’re amazing. He moved as soon as he could.

That detail matters. Columbus is full of Columbus-by-choice artists, the ones who could have stayed where they came from and did not. Dre is one of them. So is the band he came here to be near.

On being the asset

When I asked Dre what he wanted to say to the artists and entrepreneurs in this audience, he did not flinch.

“You yourself are the asset,” he said. “You can call it your brand, but your actual person is the asset, and that’s what you have to protect first.”

Then he named his manager. He named his band. He named his stylists, his background vocalists, his set designer. He named the people who make Dre look like Dre when the lights come up. It is the kind of credit-giving you do not always hear from artists.

It is also the kind of credit-giving that tells you what kind of leader he is.

On the word he picked for Friday

I asked Dre for one word to describe what he and the band are bringing to the Festival’s Main Stage on Friday night.

“Fresh.”

That was the whole answer. New music. New layout. New color. New ideas. He told me to get there at 5:45 — partly for parking, but mostly because too many great Columbus artists are on before and after him, and he doesn’t want anybody missing the music. He also wants you finding the vendors, especially the Black-owned and woman-owned booths he hits at every Fest.

I am taking him at his word.

On what’s coming next

His debut solo album has been sitting on a shelf on purpose. Dre has kept it offline, off the streaming services, off the algorithm — an exclusive release for when the moment is right. He told me later this year would be perfect.

You heard it on TalkBack first.

🎧 Subscribe to Kin+ so it lands in your inbox the moment it goes live.

🎨 Catch Dre live at the Columbus Arts Festival — Friday, June 12, Main Stage, 7:00 PM set. The Festival runs June 12–14 on the downtown riverfront. Free, all weekend, all welcome.

Share

The Arts Festival Sessions is a five-episode special series of TalkBack, presented in partnership with the Greater Columbus Arts Council, producers of the Columbus Arts Festival. Watch for the rest of the series featuring Candace O’Neal, Renee Dion, and Tracy Powell of House of Isa, dropping each Thursday between now and Festival Eve.

Welcome Home, Kinfolk.

— DaVante’ Goins is Founder and CEO of Kin Worldwide and Editor-in-Chief of Kin+.

The Columbus Arts Festival opens June 12. This year, the Black press is in the room with the artists before they get there.

Kin+ is now an official media partner of the 2026 Columbus Arts Festival, produced by the Greater Columbus Arts Council and presented by the AEP Ohio Foundation. The festival runs Friday, June 12, through Sunday, June 14, on the downtown riverfront. Free. Four stages. More than 250 juried visual artists. GCAC President and CEO Mitch Menchaca and Festival Director Alexis Perrone made the partnership real. Our coverage lives on TalkBack, the Kin+ podcast.

Starting this Friday, June 5th, TalkBack is rolling out the Arts Festival Sessions: five long-form conversations with five Columbus artists ahead of festival weekend. Three are already in the can. Here’s who.

Dre Peace is one of the founding voices of the Liquid Crystal Project, the Columbus collective that’s shaped a generation of hip-hop and neo-soul listeners. He came to Columbus from outside it and stayed for a 15-year love affair with the city. This year, he brings his band Wierfield Place to the Genoa Park Stage on Friday, June 12, at 6:45 p.m. I asked him for one word to describe what he’s bringing to the riverfront. He said: Fresh. He also has a debut solo album dropping this year, and he’s keeping it off the streaming platforms on purpose. An exclusive release for the audience that shows up. Find him on YouTube. Be parked at Genoa Park by 5:45 p.m.

Share

After Dre, we introduce you to our good sistah, Candace O’Neal, working as Canvas by Candace. She has been coming to the Columbus Arts Festival with her family since she was a little girl. This June, for the first time, she’s on the other side of the booth. Candace is one of 19 artists in the 2026 Emerging Festival Artist class, JPMorgan Chase’s program for Central Ohio artists new to major festivals. Her booth is T235 on West Town Street. The work is called the Fruit Collection: vibrant, peaceful, Spirit-led. She told us: The day you plant the seed is not the day you eat the fruit. Website: candaceoneal.com. Instagram: Canvas by Candace. Commissions open.

Renee Dion is a Columbus singer-songwriter who calls what she makes life music. She performs on the Bicentennial Park Stage on Sunday, June 14, from 3:15 to 4 p.m. Get parked downtown by 2:15. When she sat down with us, she talked about what it costs to carry pain into a recording booth and turn it into something a stranger across the city can feel. I said it during our conversation, and I’ll say it here: TalkBack went to church that day. Her COZY EP is on every platform. New music is in the studio. For booking, and as she told us, talent ain’t free, reach her at reneedionmusic@gmail.com.

We haven’t confirmed yet which episodes four and five will feature. We’re locking those now. When we publish, next week we’ll be sure to drop you a heads up about who the Kinfolks are that were catching up with before the festival begins next Friday, June 11.

Now, the read.

When the Columbus Call & Post reported this city from 1962 to 1995, and the Columbus Post carried it from 1995 to 2015, the Black artists who made Columbus a real cultural city had their own press. Album drops, gallery openings, festival sets, all of it written for Black readers. When that press went quiet, the artists did not. The work kept happening. The coverage stopped.

That gap is what Kin+ was built to close.

We didn’t become a media partner because we needed access. We became one because Black Columbus deserves an editorial perspective on its own creative class that doesn’t ask permission to take it seriously. Visibility is capital. The Chicago Defender did that work nationally. The Call & Post did it here. Kin+ is doing it now, through TalkBack, through every artist we put on the record.

Here’s the move.

One. Subscribe to TalkBack on Kin+. The Arts Festival Sessions drop every other day beginning tomorrow. Episode one, Dre Peace, first.

Two. Show up. The festival is free, June 12 through 14, Downtown Columbus’ Riverfront. Bring cash for the booths.

Three. Block your calendar. Genoa Park by 5:45 p.m. Friday for Dre Peace. Booth T235 any day for Candace O’Neal. Bicentennial Park by 2:15 p.m. Sunday for Renee Dion.

Four. KinFam membership keeps the work running. $12.99 a month, $129.99 a year, or $500 a year founding. Independent Black media in Columbus doesn’t fund itself. Y’all do.

Five. If you’re a Black artist on the 2026 bill and we haven’t reached out, reach out to us. We want every name on the record.

Columbus used to have a Black press that covered Black culture as a matter of course.

It does again.

Welcome Home, Kin Nation.

Dear Columbus,

Consider this a love letter, even if it begins with a harsh reality.

A little over a week ago, a police officer stood in front of cameras and lied. He lied loudly into a microphone, attempting to plant evidence on my character by fabricating the cost of my suit and the brand of my shoes, all to set up a rehearsed line calling me a “poverty pimp.”

For those unfamiliar with the term, a “poverty pimp” is someone accused of profiting personally from the communities they claim to serve. It has clear historically racial undertones and that is without question. It is a slur designed to discredit the messenger before the message lands and before change can actually be achieved. It is a term and tool of distraction.

The accusation does not survive an honest review of the record. Fifteen years of cases, the families I have stood next to, and the division directives and policies that have changed because of those cases speak to who I am and what this work has cost me. Brian Steel, the head of the local Fraternal Order of Police, chose those words because the playbook required him to, and because he is very willing to lie to run the plays that help officers in trouble, get out of trouble.

Poetic justice is an outcome in which vice is punished and virtue rewarded, usually in a manner peculiarly or ironically appropriate. What I have not been able to understand is why, in trying to make me out to be a poverty pimp, Steel would so easily open himself up to becoming everything the officers he represents do not want their spokesperson to be. A police officer willing to lie in specific detail. To fabricate prices. To fabricate brands. And then, in the same breath, to contrast the villain he had just painted against himself, the hero in a Jos. A. Bank shirt.

He criminalized my clothing. He made me a suspect. He tried to permanently damage my credibility and displace me as a Black man in this movement, as someone who actually, and quite literally, has skin in the game. I have worked hard for 15 years of a legal career to lead with honesty, integrity, and ethics. In just a few seconds of a rant, he attempted to rip that to shreds based entirely on lies.

The chaos that has resulted must be called out, because it is directly his responsibility. The danger cannot be understated. Emmett Till was beaten to death based on a lie. Lies have devastating consequences. For the head of the FOP to brazenly lie about a family’s civil rights attorney and the incoming President of NAACP Columbus Branch in a live press conference, in the aftermath of an historic police shooting conviction, should be disqualifying behavior.

I am writing this letter because of what that moment revealed. Not about him. About a system that has been running the same playbook for generations, against the same kinds of people, in the same kinds of ways, with the same kinds of outcomes. Poverty pimp was just the poetic justice we needed to understand and move forward past the playbook.

★ ★ ★ ★ ★

This playbook is as old as state-sanctioned violence against Black bodies in America itself.

It came for my great-great-great-grandfather, Jimmy Gibson, a sharecropper murdered by white men in the early 1900s with zero consequence. It came for my maternal grandfather, Roy Henderson, who survived only by outrunning a lynch mob in the 1950s. And it came for my paternal grandfather, Timothy Walton, who survived a 1966 police shooting only because the officer’s partner, O.J. Bradley, finally told the truth.

In each generation, the playbook came for my family and either worked or just barely missed. By inches. By moments. By the courage of one truth-teller, or by one fast set of legs. And here I am, in 2026, telling you that the same playbook just killed Casey Goodson Jr. as he walked into his own house, then allowed the officer to evade full accountability by criminalizing the victim while the head of the police union pushed a propaganda campaign to establish Jason Meade’s credibility over Casey’s.

This playbook survives by erasing humanity. Shitbags. Animals. Wolves. Occupational hazards. Pimps.

These are the dehumanizing words Brian Steel reaches for the moment a microphone is in front of him. He thinks in absolute binaries: Heroes vs. Villains. Humans vs. Wolves. Good vs. Evil. He cannot cite the racial statistics of violent crime while simultaneously using subhuman names, or invoking a “pimp and prostitute” dynamic, without blowing a deafening dog whistle. If he admits his officers’ victims are human, his entire system collapses.

You saw this double standard after the trial. Steel praised the Meade family for shedding few tears and called them outstanding people and “our side”, yet condemned the Goodsons for weeping after five and a half years of agonizing patience, dignity and pain. Meanwhile, Meade’s brother spit on a reporter during the first trial, and his father trash-talked me to my face inside the courtroom during the second. Because we do not call out in the same ways Steel is allowed to and certainly do not wish to villainize an entire family to manufacture a contrast between “good” and “bad,” those things go unreported.

We are depicted as antagonists despite never committing any wrongdoing, by someone who possesses unquestioned power to do so, while simultaneously protecting and portraying the true offenders as flawless.

Steel admitted that when a citizen simply looked at him in the hallway after the verdict and said, “we did this,” his immediate thought was, do you want to fight or something? That is not what an objectively reasonable officer thinks when a citizen speaks. If that is his first reflex in a courthouse hallway and he is the representation of what 4,500 Central Ohio police officers think and feel, does that make any of us feel safer? Does it instill an irrational fear of threat on both sides of a police encounter?

Is that a part of the playbook, too?

★ ★ ★ ★ ★

The playbook does not only run on the dead. It very much runs on the living, as well.

Right now in Whitehall, the FOP is running it on Mayor Michael Bivens, the first Black mayor that city has ever elected; Councilmember Lori Elmore, the first Black councilmember Whitehall has ever elected; and Councilmember Amy Harcar, a white ally who advocates for Black and Brown communities.

The FOP has orchestrated smear campaigns and backed special recall elections against all three, framing routine policy disagreements as scandals and demanding investigations the facts do not support. Meanwhile, Whitehall Councilmember Gerald Dixon stands accused of sexual misconduct involving minors and faces no such recall campaign.

He was also endorsed by the FOP.

The same union that drags Black bailiffs and Black judges in press releases has gone to enormous lengths to defend officers indicted for homicide and convicted of murder, and to look the other way when their own endorsed candidates need criminal accountability. You start to see the pattern when you look at who they extend the benefit of the doubt to, who they do not, and who they flat out launch campaigns against.

He will do and say whatever it takes to achieve his goals. For years before each Meade trial, he called the case a political prosecution by special prosecutors with “far-left ideologies.” Both special prosecutors are registered Republicans. The framing of two 70-plus-year-old white Republican men politically prosecuting a hero is so ridiculous that exposing his dishonesty should be a bipartisan effort.

Steel has asked us to believe in a coordinated conspiracy between the Columbus Police, the FBI, the County Prosecutor’s Office, and the U.S. Attorney’s Office, all aligned to politically prosecute one officer. What he refuses to recognize is that his own theory draws attention to the glaring deficiencies in how criminal justice is administered every day, against people who do not have a union running press conferences for them. And there is poetic justice in the clarity of this: the man he has chosen as his poster child for criminal justice reform, at the expense of Casey Goodson Jr., is a Sheriff’s Deputy, a pastor, a former Marine, and a white male member of the FOP.

For years, multiple officers, separately and without coordination, have described hearing Brian Steel tell a room of his members: He will never lie, cheat, or steal from officers, but he will lie, cheat, and steal for police officers. The line is consistent across every retelling. That is why I have studied his words so carefully. This has never been a feud. It has been a reckoning with what he has told his own members he is willing to do. So I listen to all of the potential and actual lies, and I respond where I can with real truth.

★ ★ ★ ★ ★

This letter marks the end of one phase of what I have been doing publicly and the beginning of a phase the work has been waiting on for over a decade.

I have watched him do this before. When I released Connor Grubb’s name after he killed Ta’Kiya Young, Steel retaliated by releasing random pictures of Ta’Kiya to the public in an effort to criminalize and blame her. He released a past police report while stating “Criminal history doesn’t make an incident less tragic but helps paint a picture what led to it.” That was also the moment he first called protesters “terrorists,” inventing its use in this conversation to position citizens as the bad guys in his binary frame. When I used it to refer to him, he cried foul.

What some have called a feud was never personal on my end. Every time I pushed back, I was inviting a public figure to respond with the precision and dignity his position demands. Every time, he chose instead to escalate, to lie, to dehumanize, and to distract. The pattern is his, not mine. I refused to look away from it, and that refusal is what some have mistaken for feuding. The lies cannot be allowed to speak louder than the truth.

I did it because John Lewis told us to get in good trouble, necessary trouble. I did it because there was a population in this city who had stopped paying attention and stopped believing we can touch the untouchables. I did it because there were young people who had never seen a Black professional push back at someone like the head of the FOP without flinching. I refused to teach by example that the only way to survive in proximity to civic bullying is to stay quiet and be respectable about politics.

My politics are revolutionary, and no matter my tactics or my approach, no one should ever question that.

I did it to stand on business.

Poverty Pimp was the poetic justice that confirmed the pattern. There is no more debate about what he does. The record now speaks for itself. That is the system. The question now is whether we still consent to it.

★ ★ ★ ★ ★

It has been suggested that I should sit down privately with Brian Steel to make peace. Let me address the absurdity of that request. I am being asked to treat a man as an equal partner who has shown absolutely no reason for me to believe that he respects me, sees me, or hears me. Until his lack of credibility is addressed through a complete 180 and public apology for his years of behavior, or a change in FOP leadership, there is nothing to discuss. Not with him and I one-on-one.

I do invite him to be the guest speaker at our June NAACP General Body meeting though, since he has proudly claimed his NAACP membership throughout this process. I invite him to speak directly to our body, and to allow a Q&A from which I will remove myself as a participant. From there, my executive committee and general body can lead on how we shall proceed, and I will follow the will of the people. Whatever that will may be.

★ ★ ★ ★ ★

The silent majority of officers in this city wants what the community wants, and I have been in their corner. He will speak using his platform as head of the union, to act as if he is speaking for a monolith of officers who believe exactly what he says they believe. That is the thin blue line, actualized. He ostracized Whitehall officers, by name, and called them “free riders” for deciding to no longer pay union dues under his leadership.

He even applies the playbook internally to divide and conquer.

My refusal to engage with a dishonest operator should never be confused with a lack of support for rank-and-file officers. My representation of Columbus police officer Karl Shaw resulted in an amended division directive that has protected every officer who came after him for the past six years. That same advocacy drives my work on the Ethics and Equity Advisory Council for Axon Enterprise, impacting over 17,000 public safety agencies, and my recent lobbying on Capitol Hill alongside law enforcement officers such as one of the “toughest” sheriffs in the country for bipartisan de-escalation legislation supported by the National FOP and community organizers alike.

You can see this same commitment to systemic change in the recent passage of Issue 5. When Collin Jennings was killed during a mental health crisis in 2024, his family and I did not rush to demand a murder indictment. Instead, my former client Chana Wiley, whose brother Jaron Thomas died following a similar crisis with police in 2017, stepped in to help guide the family’s messaging toward policy reform and to amplify the work of the Columbus Safety Collective. Chana and the CSC helped push Issue 5 through to create an alternative crisis response system that protects both citizens in distress and responding officers. This is what we can achieve when we refuse to let progress be clouded by lies about “defunding the police” or wanting to send every officer who pulls a trigger to prison.

It should not require a decade of fighting to secure a commonsense win that helps everyone.

I do not need to sit down with Steel to deliver on the progress needed for my clients, my community, or my members. I have been working towards that this entire time and helped lead that progress despite his opposition. This has not been an emotional exercise on my part. Every step of this, I have been fully in control of what I believe to be necessary, and where I believe this moment needs to go, and I am moving based on the years of experience I have gained hearing the pain of the people, and working to turn that pain into power and progress.

★ ★ ★ ★ ★

What is beginning now is the slow, careful building of the systems and institutions this city has needed all along.

Officers who can speak honestly without fearing reprisal. Families who can grieve without being smeared. Police chiefs who can refuse to be intimidated by the FOP. Citizens who can begin to disentangle the difference between law enforcement and the labor union that has been claiming to speak for them.

People who can hear truth louder than they can hear the lies.

A man who cannot admit error cannot help build anything that requires honesty. He has chosen his role. The rest of us get to choose ours.

Pastor Kevin Hairston said it cleaner than I can: Fear cannot be the foundation of civic leadership. Vision must be. I still believe Columbus has the potential to become one of the strongest examples of unity, collaboration, economic growth, and community healing in America, but only if we stop viewing one another as threats and start viewing one another as partners in shaping the future.

This is my love letter to Columbus.

To the Black community that has carried this work for generations.

To the officers who have wanted to speak and have not yet found the way.

To the families of the dead, who have given me the privilege of standing next to them in the worst moments of their lives.

To the white residents who have been waiting for a way to participate without being asked to abandon their own integrity.

To the moderate, the radical, the religious, the secular, the elected, the unelected, the young, and the old, all of whom have been told they have to pick a side in a fight he manufactured.

You do not have to pick the side he gave you. You can pick a different one. The side that says we are not threats to one another. The side that says our neighbor’s truth, however ugly, deserves the same dignity as our own and the same accountability as any other person. The side that says the foundation of this city has to be vision, not fear, and certainly not lies.

★ ★ ★ ★ ★

The lesson of Officer Bradley is the lesson my grandfather carried for the rest of his life: The truth, told once, by one person, can free another person to heal.

Let us name what is what. Let us trust each other to do it.

More than anything else, I want my leadership to be remembered as one that decentralized power in Columbus and returned all power to all of the people.

The truth shall set us free. These truths shall set us free.

Sean L. Walton, Jr.

Columbus, Ohio

Share

Ohio has a political scandal sitting in plain sight.

Not hidden in some dark corner of the internet. Not whispered about in back rooms. Not buried in anonymous Reddit threads or political gossip pages. It is out in the open: a sitting Ohio congressman, Representative Max Miller, is facing serious allegations from his ex-wife, Emily Moreno, the daughter of U.S. Senator Bernie Moreno, while Bay Village police continue investigating a report involving suspected child abuse.

And yet, in Columbus, the political capital of this state, the silence has been loud.

Miller, a Republican who represents Ohio’s 7th Congressional District, denies the allegations. No criminal charges have been filed. That matters. Allegations are not convictions, and custody fights can be ugly, complicated, and weaponized by all sides.

But that does not make this story private. Not anymore.

Not when police have confirmed an open investigation. Not when court filings are being reported by multiple outlets. Not when one Ohio Republican congressman is publicly accusing one Ohio Republican senator — his former father-in-law — of helping fuel a campaign to destroy him. And definitely not when the public officials involved are both backed by the same political movement that loves to lecture everyone else about family values, law and order, and protecting children.

Share

According to News 5 Cleveland, Bay Village police are investigating claims of suspected child abuse involving Miller’s young daughter. The outlet reported that a county child protective specialist went to police about “suspected child abuse,” and police said they would not release more details because the investigation remains open. Days later, Emily Moreno filed a motion asking a judge to make her the sole custodian of the couple’s 2-year-old daughter. In that filing, according to News 5, Moreno alleged Miller spoke to her in an aggressive and demeaning manner and engaged in dangerous physical behavior in the child’s presence.

Miller’s side has pushed back hard. His attorney, Larry Zukerman, gave News 5 what he described as a county document saying one report of alleged physical abuse involving Miller’s daughter was “unsubstantiated,” meaning no evidence of child abuse or neglect was found in that specific inquiry. Zukerman called the allegations false. Miller has also sought psychological evaluations in the custody case, arguing that Moreno has made repeated unsubstantiated claims.

That is the legal fog this story sits inside: one side saying there is a pattern of dangerous conduct, the other side saying the allegations are false and politically motivated.

But then the story got bigger.

Subscribe now

The Daily Beast reported that Emily Moreno has accused Miller of years of physical abuse, including an alleged February 1 custody exchange where she says Miller struck her while their daughter was present. The outlet reported that photographs obtained by the Daily Mail showed bruising and redness after alleged incidents, and that Bay Village police confirmed it responded to a child-abuse report that day and that the investigation remains open.

The Daily Beast also reported an earlier allegation from June 2024, where Moreno claims Miller threw boiling water at her during an argument while their daughter was home. Miller denies the allegations. His attorney told the Daily Mail that Miller denied the claims, and Miller later posted materials online that he said refuted the reporting.

People reported that Miller publicly accused Sen. Bernie Moreno of funding what Miller called a “malicious campaign” against him. People also reported that Miller called the Daily Mail report false, posted videos and screenshots he said supported his denial, and accused Emily Moreno of focusing on hurting him instead of caring for their child. Sen. Moreno had not publicly responded to Miller’s accusation, according to People’s May 8 report.

So let’s be clear about what we know and what we do not know.

We know there is an open police investigation.

We know there is an active custody battle.

We know Emily Moreno has made serious allegations.

We know Miller denies them.

We know at least one abuse-related inquiry was described by Miller’s attorney as unsubstantiated.

We know the political stakes are high because this is not just any family dispute. This involves a sitting member of Congress, the daughter of a sitting U.S. senator, and two prominent Ohio Republicans tied directly to Donald Trump’s political orbit.

Purchase Today

And we know something else: this story has not been treated by much of Ohio’s political media with the urgency it deserves.

News 5 Cleveland has reported on it. National outlets have picked it up. TiffinOhio.net published a detailed summary tying together the Daily Mail reporting, the Daily Beast confirmation, Miller’s denial, and the Ohio Democratic Party’s reaction. The Ohio Capital Journal appears to have included the matter in a May 12 news roundup, but as of this writing, Kin+ did not find a major standalone Columbus newsroom treatment matching the seriousness of the allegations.

That matters.

Because Columbus is where Ohio power gets laundered into respectability.

Columbus is where state officials hold press conferences about “values.” Columbus is where lawmakers pass bills in the name of children, parents, safety, morality, schools, bathrooms, sports, religion, police, and family. Columbus is where political operatives decide which scandals become breaking news and which ones get filed away as “personal matters.”

But when the allegation involves a powerful Republican man, a wealthy family network, a custody fight, and possible abuse, suddenly everybody wants to act like the room got quiet by accident.

It did not.

The silence is part of the story.

This is not about turning domestic violence allegations into a partisan weapon. That would be too cheap and too easy. Domestic violence is not a Democratic issue or a Republican issue. Abuse is abuse. Power is power. Courts are courts. Evidence is evidence. A denial is a denial. An investigation is an investigation.

But the public has a right to ask whether powerful men receive a different level of patience, protection, and presumption than everybody else.

The public has a right to ask whether Ohio’s political class would be this quiet if the accused official were a Democrat from Cleveland, Columbus, or Cincinnati.

The public has a right to ask whether “protect the children” is a real governing principle or just a campaign slogan printed on mailers.

And the public has a right to ask what Ohio’s Republican leadership has to say.

Miller has been a Trump-backed congressman since 2023. Moreno is now one of Ohio’s two U.S. senators. Their family connection was once part of the same Republican power ecosystem. Miller and Emily Moreno married in 2022 at Trump National Golf Club Bedminster, according to the Daily Beast, and later divorced after a bitter split.

Now that the relationship has spilled into court filings, police records, national media, and public accusations.

That is not merely a “messy divorce.”

That is public accountability territory.

There is also another layer here: the legal system itself.

A New York Post report republished by Zashin Law says Miller’s attorneys later acknowledged that his girlfriend was “not likely present” during a February custody exchange, despite Miller previously claiming in a notarized statement and hearing testimony that she was there. Moreno’s attorney then demanded sanctions and attorney fees, arguing that Miller was weaponizing the legal process in the custody dispute. Miller’s attorneys still argued that the video of the exchange showed no altercation.

That detail deserves scrutiny because courts rely on sworn statements. Protection orders rely on credibility. Custody decisions rely on facts. When any party in a case is accused of misrepresenting a witness, that is not a side note. That goes directly to the integrity of the process.

And again, Miller denies wrongdoing.

But denial does not end a story. It defines one side of it.

That is where journalism comes in.

The job is not to convict someone in public. The job is not to run somebody through a digital gallows. The job is to separate what is known, what is alleged, what is denied, what is documented, and what public officials still refuse to answer.

That is what Ohio’s political press should be doing right now.

Not with tabloid thirst. Not with partisan laziness. But with discipline.

Ask Bay Village police for updates.

Ask the Cuyahoga County court for accessible filings.

Ask Miller’s office whether he will answer questions beyond social media posts.

Ask Sen. Moreno’s office whether he denies, confirms, or refuses to address Miller’s accusation that he helped fund a campaign against him.

Ask Ohio Republican leaders whether allegations involving domestic violence and child safety deserve public comment when the accused official is one of their own.

Ask House Republican leadership whether they are monitoring the situation.

Ask the Ohio Democratic Party what accountability looks like beyond campaign messaging.

Ask everyone the same question: if this were your political enemy, would you be louder?

That is the question Columbus should not be allowed to dodge.

Because this is bigger than Max Miller.

It is about what happens when family power, political power, legal power, and media power all collide — and whether Ohioans are expected to look away because the people involved are too connected to touch.

Kin+ will not pretend to know what a court has not decided. But we also will not pretend an open police investigation involving a sitting congressman is just somebody else’s local story.

This is Ohio.

This is power.

And power should never get privacy when the public interest is this clear.

Jason Meade was convicted today. Just not of murder.

A Franklin County jury — nine women, three men — found the former sheriff’s deputy guilty of reckless homicide in the December 2020 killing of Casey Goodson Jr. Reckless homicide is a third-degree felony in the state of Ohio. It carries somewhere between nine and thirty-six months. It is the legal equivalent of a jury saying we know what you did; we just couldn’t quite bring ourselves to call it what it was.

On the murder charge, the jury hung. Again. As they did in 2024. Twice now, twelve people from this county have sat in a room with the evidence and failed to agree that what Jason Meade did to Casey Goodson Jr. was murder.

So let me lay the evidence out the way the prosecution did, because somebody should.

Casey Goodson Jr. was twenty-three years old. He was a licensed concealed carry holder. On December 4, 2020, he was walking into his grandmother’s house on the Northeast Side with a bag of Subway sandwiches in one hand and his keys in the other. He had earbuds in. He could not hear what he could not hear.

Jason Meade — a forty-seven-year-old white sheriff’s deputy and Baptist pastor — had finished a shift on a U.S. Marshals task force. Casey was not a target of that task force. Casey was not a suspect in anything. Meade has said, and only Meade has ever said, that Casey waved a gun at him from a passing vehicle. No other witness corroborated that. No camera recorded it. The Franklin County Sheriff’s Office did not equip its deputies with body cameras at the time, which is its own indictment for another column.

Meade followed Casey home. To his grandmother’s house.

What happened at that door is the part where the system keeps stumbling. Meade fired six rounds. Five of them entered Casey Goodson Jr. from the back. One entered from the side. When officers arrived, Casey’s licensed firearm was found beneath his body on his grandmother’s kitchen floor with the safety still engaged. The safety. Still on. The gun a 23-year-old man supposedly leveled at a deputy could not have fired if he’d tried.

Share

That is what a Franklin County jury this week was asked to decide was murder. And twice — twice — twelve of our neighbors could not get there.

Reckless homicide is what they got there on. Reckless. As if the issue were a moment of inattention. As if Jason Meade was changing the radio and accidentally let off six rounds into a young Black man’s back. The word “reckless” makes a verdict the system can stomach. It splits a kind of difference. It lets a jury go home.

Casey Goodson Jr. does not get to go home.

Subscribe now

Let’s be honest about what this verdict means and what it doesn’t.

It means Jason Meade is the second white law enforcement officer in the state of Ohio convicted of killing a Black man since George Floyd was murdered in Minneapolis in May 2020. The second. In nearly six years. In a state where the names keep coming. That is the bar. Set it on the floor and we still can’t seem to clear it on the first try.

It means the special prosecutor’s office did its job and a partial verdict is, in the words of Tim Merkle, something the state is “pleased with.” It means that on the courthouse steps, the police union president told the cameras he hopes there is no third trial on the murder charge. He hopes. That’s the temperature in 2026.

It means the Goodson family, who already won a $7 million civil settlement from Franklin County in 2024 — taxpayer money, our money, paid out because the county itself wouldn’t say in court what its insurance carrier said in writing — got a partial answer today. Not the answer. A partial answer. The kind that still requires a press conference to explain.

It means that during this trial, Columbus residents hung banners from highway overpasses that read Justice for Casey Goodson Jr. and Convict Murderer Meade. And the judge ordered law enforcement to take them down. In this city. In our city. The pleading of a community for one of its own was deemed prejudicial to a man on trial for shooting a community member six times.

Purchase Today

I want to say something to the Kinfolk reading this in Columbus tonight, because we are the ones who carry this.

Casey Goodson Jr. was somebody’s grandbaby. He was bringing food home. He had earbuds in because he was listening to music, which is what 23-year-olds do when they are walking into a house they grew up in. He was at a door he had every right to open. He did everything we tell our boys to do — licensed, lawful, headed home — and it did not save him.

A jury today said Jason Meade was reckless. We say Casey was murdered. Both can be true in a courtroom. Only one is true in our living rooms.

The state may decide whether to try this murder charge a third time. They have not announced. The defense is asking the public to be done with it. Tired. Tired. That’s the word the system reaches for when it is asking the people who buried Casey Goodson Jr. to be quiet now.

We are not done with it. We will not be done with it. Because being done with it is how a county like Franklin pays $7 million on the civil docket and 9 to 36 months on the criminal docket and calls the books closed on a young man who walked to his own door with sandwiches in his hand.

Welcome home, Columbus. We are still saying his name.

Casey Goodson Jr.

Rev. Jesse Jackson is dead at 84, and America is already doing what it always does when a Black giant exits the stage: rushing to file him into a clean little folder labeled hero or problem. He deserves neither box. He deserves the truth.

Jackson died in Chicago after years battling a rare neurological disorder and related complications—another reminder that the body keeps score, even when the spirit refuses to stop moving.

Now, here’s the part folks are going to fight about: legacy. Jesse Jackson’s legacy is complicated; it includes towering wins, sharp elbows, public controversies, and a lifelong habit of standing right in the center of history’s camera frame. Fine. Debate it.

But impact? That’s the part that outruns the arguments. Because “His legacy is complicated; his impact is measurable.”

Here’s what was really happening

Jesse Jackson didn’t just “lead marches.” “Jesse Jackson didn’t just march—he built leverage.” He understood something a lot of people still don’t want to learn: moral clarity is powerful, but power respects pressure.

He took civil rights out of the nostalgia museum and into the operating system of American life: jobs, contracts, elections, corporate boardrooms, media gatekeeping, and the permanent fight over who counts as “the public.” He built organizations and coalitions meant to extract results—Operation PUSH and, later, the Rainbow/PUSH Coalition, which formalized that coalition model and kept it going long after cameras moved on.

And he did it with language that stuck to your ribs. “I Am Somebody” wasn’t just a chant—it was a corrective to a country trained to treat Black dignity as negotiable

If you want this kind of plain-spoken, culturally fluent analysis—without the corporate filters—join #KinFam. Kin+ is Where the group chat meets the truth., and membership is how we keep the lights on and the receipts organized.

Subscribe now

Key moments

1) He turned coalition politics into an actual strategy

People throw around “coalition” like it’s a cute photo-op of everybody holding hands. Jesse treated it like warfare—with spreadsheets, targets, and consequences. “Rainbow politics wasn’t a vibe—it was a strategy.”

His whole approach was about expanding the table while refusing to beg for scraps. He pushed a multiracial, multi-issue frame—race, class, labor, gender, LGBTQ+ rights—then dared the Democratic Party to either grow up or get left behind.

2) He made Black presidential ambition thinkable on live TV

Jesse Jackson ran for the Democratic presidential nomination in 1984 and 1988, and no, he didn’t win. That’s not the point. The point is that he showed the country something it pretended it wasn’t ready to see: a Black candidate building a national coalition, stacking delegates, and forcing the party to say the quiet parts out loud.

Say it with your chest: “He made Black political ambition sound normal on national TV.”

And yes—if you’ve ever watched a candidate talk to Black voters like their campaign rent was due on Friday, “If you’ve ever watched a candidate court Black voters like their life depended on it, you’ve seen his fingerprints.”

3) He dragged corporate America into the conversation—whether it liked it or not

Jackson’s critics love to reduce him to microphones and theatrics. But the real work was often boring: boycotts, negotiations, demands, follow-ups, and the constant insistence that “diversity” isn’t a commercial—it’s employment, vendors, contracts, and decision-making.

This is where impact beats legacy every time. Movements can win hearts. Jesse tried to win budgets.

4) He practiced “freelance diplomacy” when the government couldn’t (or wouldn’t)

One of the wildest parts of Jesse Jackson’s career is how often he walked into geopolitical messes as a private citizen and walked out with people released. Reuters and other accounts credit him with helping secure the release of Americans held abroad and serving as an envoy to Africa during the Clinton era.

And whether you love that or hate it, it speaks to the same core principle: “He didn’t wait for permission from power; he negotiated with it.”

Share

So what?

• Black politics today is built on infrastructure he normalized. National campaigns courting Black voters, coalition math, movement language in policy debates—this didn’t appear out of thin air.

• He proved protest isn’t the only lever—organized bargaining is. A march is a moment. An institution is a machine. Jesse built machines.

• He modeled the cost of being “inside-outside.” When you pressure presidents and CEOs, you get results—and enemies. That tension shaped his whole public life.

• He helped globalize Black freedom as a human rights issue. Tributes today highlight his anti-apartheid advocacy and international solidarity, which mattered because U.S. racial hierarchy has always been part of a global system.

And here’s the bluntest truth: “The debates about Jesse will fade; the doors he kicked open won’t.”

What could break this? (failure modes)

1. We turn him into a Hallmark quote instead of a playbook. “Keep hope alive wasn’t a slogan—it was a workload.” If we only keep the slogan, we lose the method.

2. Coalition politics collapses into clout politics. Jesse’s model required discipline, negotiation, and uncomfortable alliances—not just trending topics.

3. Institutions absorb the aesthetics of justice while resisting the economics of justice. He fought for contracts and jobs because symbolism alone doesn’t pay rent. That fight is still unfinished.

What to watch next (signals)

1. What happens to the Rainbow/PUSH Coalition now—leadership, priorities, and whether it stays a pressure organization or becomes a legacy brand.

2. How 2026–2028 Democrats talk about Black voters—substance vs. performance, policy vs. pandering.

3. Whether “economic justice” returns as a central frame (jobs, wages, contracts, education) instead of an afterthought.

4. How younger organizers talk about Jesse—do they inherit the coalition method or reject it as “old politics”?

5. The global tributes—especially from leaders and movements who saw him as part of a broader anti-racist, anti-apartheid international story.

Jesse Jackson will be argued about forever. That’s what happens when you spend your life applying pressure in public.

But the scoreboard matters more than the commentary. He expanded what Black America could demand, and he forced America to respond—sometimes with progress, sometimes with backlash, often with both.

His legacy is messy. His impact? It’s everywhere.

If you’re tired of sanitized obituaries and want coverage that tells the truth and explains the stakes, join #KinFam. Supporting Kin+ means backing Black-owned journalism that treats power like a system—not a celebrity.

Subscribe now

SOURCING / TRANSPARENCY FOOTER (sources used)

• Associated Press • The Rev. Jesse Jackson… has died at 84 • Feb 17, 2026

• Reuters • Jesse Jackson… dies at 84 • Feb 17, 2026

• The Guardian • Jesse Jackson… dies aged 84 • Feb 17, 2026

• The Washington Post • Jesse Jackson… dies at 84 • Feb 17, 2026

• Rainbow PUSH Coalition • Brief History / Organization and Mission • (site pages)

• Encyclopaedia Britannica • Operation PUSH • (page updated)

• WTTW • Rev. Jesse Jackson… dies at 84 • Feb 17, 2026

Columbus is doing that thing cities do when the vibes get toxic: everybody starts fumbling for the nearest bottle of hand sanitizer and pretending nobody touched the doorknob.

The doorknob, in this case, is Les Wexner—the billionaire retail kingmaker whose name is on half the city and whose proximity to Jeffrey Epstein has never been a secret, but is suddenly being treated like breaking news now that new batches of Epstein-related records are out and Wexner is headed toward a congressional deposition.

So now a bunch of elected officials are announcing they’re donating Wexner campaign contributions to local nonprofits. Rep. Joyce Beatty says she’s donating Wexner money to organizations supporting survivors of sex trafficking and abuse. Columbus City Council President Shannon Hardin says he donated the “total sum” to Columbus Promise. Franklin County Commissioner John O’Grady donated to Ours Brothers Keepers.

And then there’s Mayor Andrew Ginther, who—according to The Columbus Dispatch—isn’t giving his Wexner donations away. The local outlet The Rooster also reports Ginther told reporters nobody asked him to return the money, and he brushed off concerns about Wexner’s Epstein ties.

Which brings us to the real question: Is donating the money away accountability… or is it just reputation management with a receipt?

We track the influence chain—who pays, who benefits, who dodges, and how “accountability” gets staged for cameras. Join the #KinFam for more like this.

Subscribe now

Here’s what was really happening: “Return the money” is the cheapest form of morality

Donating Wexner money to charity sounds like a righteous cleanse. It photographs well. It reads well in a press release. It lets you say “I stand with survivors” without doing anything that might upset the donor ecosystem that keeps local politics humming.

But functionally? It doesn’t rewind time. It doesn’t erase the access the donation bought. It doesn’t undo the advantage that money gave when it was sitting in the account—paying for mailers, staff time, event space, field operations, or just plain political security.

It’s like saying, “I cashed the check, but don’t worry—I gave the same amount to charity later.” That’s not repentance. That’s laundering the optics.

And the timing isn’t subtle. Wexner is back in headlines because (1) his name appeared among newly unredacted Epstein-related material and was discussed publicly by members of Congress, and (2) the House Oversight Committee is moving forward with a deposition. The pressure got louder, so the politicians got holier.

Share

Key moments in the Wexner “donate it away” scramble

1) The Epstein files get louder—and Wexner gets pulled back into the frame

Wexner hasn’t been charged with a crime, and his representatives have denied wrongdoing and said he was not a target in 2019.

At the same time, reporting around the latest document releases has put his name back into public view—including references to an FBI document that listed him as a “co-conspirator,” while also noting limited evidence. That’s not a conviction. But it’s also not nothing—especially in a country that routinely treats suspicion like smoke and “smoke” like fire when the person isn’t rich.

2) Beatty moves first—because her math is ugly

Beatty says she’s donating Wexner money to survivor-support organizations. WOSU reports she has received $61,100 from Les and Abigail Wexner since 2013. That’s enough money to become a story all by itself, especially when your district includes Columbus and your political brand has to survive the phrase “Epstein associate” in the same paragraph as “campaign contributions.”

3) Hardin and O’Grady discover charity—right on schedule

Per The Rooster, O’Grady donated to Ours Brothers Keepers; Hardin donated to Columbus Promise. Whether you love those choices or side-eye them, the logic is the same: announce a donation, exit the blast radius.

And yes, it conveniently overlaps with the unspoken local reality: Columbus political succession is always loading in the background. (Hardin, Klein, and Ginther are basically in a long-running “who’s next” chess match.)

4) Ginther doesn’t budge—and that’s why he’s the headline

If you’re the mayor and everybody around you is sprinting toward the moral high ground, standing still reads like defiance.

Even if Ginther’s internal logic is “the donations were legal,” politics is not a courtroom. Politics is vibes plus power. And right now, the vibe is: why are you the last person still holding the bag?

So what? What donating the money away actually changes

It changes three things—none of them are the big one.

1. It reduces future dependency.
   If Wexner money is still sitting in a campaign account, donating an equivalent amount to charity can at least stop it from funding future political activity.

2. It’s a signal—mostly to donors and endorsers.
   This is a way of saying: “I’m safe. I won’t let this become a liability for the coalition.”

3. It’s narrative control.
   It flips the story from “why did you take it?” to “look what I did with it.” That’s not accountability. That’s PR.

What it doesn’t do: it doesn’t address the deeper issue—a local power structure that treated Wexner money as normal, acceptable, and not worth explaining until national scrutiny forced everybody’s hand.

Is this just because it’s an election year?

Mostly, yes.

Not because every politician is cartoon-villain evil, but because election years are when:

• opponents go digging,

• reporters have incentives to connect dots,

• donors get skittish,

• and “values” suddenly become a campaign asset again.

Also: the congressional deposition date puts a clock on the story. Every week closer to it increases the chance new details drop, and nobody wants to be caught flat-footed with a quote like “no comment” while the internet does what the internet does.

Will Wexner’s name start coming off buildings?

That process has already started—at least politically and culturally—even if the signs haven’t changed yet.

Survivors of OSU’s Richard Strauss abuse have been publicly pressuring Ohio State leadership around Wexner’s institutional influence, including calls to remove his name from facilities. Ohio State has denied at least one formal request to remove Wexner’s name from the Woody Hayes Athletic Center complex. And OSU’s president has publicly acknowledged paying attention to the latest Epstein-file reporting while also saying there’s “no reason not to believe” Wexner’s denials.

Translation: the university is bracing, not pivoting.

Name removals happen when two things converge:

1. sustained public pressure (not just a one-week flare-up), and

2. institutional stakeholders deciding the reputational cost exceeds the financial/history cost.

The pressure side is rising. The institutional side? Still in “wait it out” mode.

What could break this? (Failure modes)

1. The deposition is a dud.
   If the congressional deposition yields no new, headline-worthy information, the urgency fades, and everybody’s “donation cleanse” becomes the closing chapter.

2. The story gets localized into petty politics.
   If this turns into “Hardin vs. Ginther” personality content, the structural question—who runs Columbus, and how—gets buried.

3. Nonprofits become props.
   If donations look like opportunistic checks without transparency, the nonprofits get used as moral shields and the public gets even more cynical.

What to watch next (signals)

1. Does Ginther eventually donate—or double down?
   A late donation would scream “I resisted until it hurt.”

2. Do other city/county officials disclose totals and timelines?
   “Donated to charity” is not a number. Watch for specifics.

3. Do institutions move on naming decisions—or stall again?
   OSU’s current posture is “no.” Watch if that changes as pressure escalates.

4. Does the deposition produce new documentation?
   Even one new detail can re-ignite the whole cycle.

5. Do journalists keep pulling the thread locally?
   Because Columbus has lived with Wexner’s influence for decades. The real story is what people accepted before the national spotlight arrived.

The honest bottom line: donating the money away is not accountability. It’s harm reduction—for the politician. Real accountability would be (a) rejecting the money going forward, (b) disclosing totals cleanly, (c) explaining the relationship and access patterns, and (d) supporting structural reforms that make it harder for a single billionaire to become an unofficial branch of local government.

Until then, “I gave it to charity” is just the political version of “my bad.” Cute. Not sufficient.

We don’t just report the headline—we map the power, the incentives, and the cover stories that keep it all running.

Subscribe now

SOURCING / TRANSPARENCY FOOTER (sources used)

• WOSU Public Media — “U.S. Rep. Joyce Beatty will donate campaign money from Leslie Wexner to charity” — Feb. 13, 2026

• ABC6 / WSYX — “Ohio politicians scramble to return campaign donations tied to Wexner” — Feb. 16, 2026

• Reuters — “US congressional panel to subpoena billionaire Leslie Wexner over Epstein ties” — Jan. 8, 2026

• NOTUS — “Ohio Lawmakers Stay Mum on Donations From Epstein Associate Les Wexner” — Feb. 10, 2026

• Ohio Revised Code — Section 3517.08 (charitable donation expenditures) — effective Sept. 30, 2025

• Federal Election Commission — “Charitable donations” guidance

• The Rooster (D.J. Byrnes) — “Shannon Hardin & Joyce Beatty return Leslie Wexner’s dirty money” — Feb. 13, 2026

• The Rooster (D.J. Byrnes) — “Ohio State University still honors notorious Jeffrey Epstein associate Les Wexner” — Dec. 18, 2025

By the time Norah O’Donnell finished setting the scene in Cambridge, Maryland—historic town, Underground Railroad lore, civil rights echoes—you could already tell what CBS wanted this hour to be: a glossy audition tape for Gov. Wes Moore as “the future of the Democratic Party.”

And honestly? Moore played the role like he understood the assignment.

But here’s the twist: the most important thing Moore did wasn’t flirt with 2028. It was drag his own party for being allergic to urgency—while staring straight at a country that’s watching Trump-style politics sprint across the field like it stole the whistle.

Because that’s where we are. This isn’t the “ideas marketplace.” It’s speed chess with consequences.

“No and slow” is a death sentence

Moore’s clearest argument—under all the talk about Trump, Epstein, immigration, rising prices, and the general vibes of national dysfunction—was basically this:

Democrats can’t keep responding to real pain with studies, task forces, commissions, and “we’re going to explore options.”

People aren’t asking for a five-year plan. They’re asking if you see them right now.

And yes, that’s partly an indictment of the party. Not because Democrats don’t have policies. They do. The problem is they keep communicating like the policy itself is the victory. Like the press conference is the finish line. Like the spreadsheet is dinner.

Meanwhile, the other side is moving like they don’t even believe in guardrails.

That’s why Moore’s framing hit: the question isn’t whether Democrats are right. The question is whether they’re credible as doers. Whether they can execute with enough speed to match the moment without turning into the moment.

That’s the needle.Trump insulted him—Moore refused to audition for the circus

CBS made sure to include Trump’s usual brand of public disrespect toward Moore—calling him “foul-mouthed,” accusing him of lying about military medals, blaming him for Baltimore crime, and the Francis Scott Key Bridge rebuild.

And Moore didn’t do what a lot of Democrats do in these moments: the trembling, over-explaining, “let me clarify the record” thing.

He basically said: I’m not doing mental gymnastics inside Trump’s psyche. I have a state to run.

That matters.

Because one of the ways Trump dominates the room—even when he’s not in it—is by forcing his opponents to speak in his language. To respond on his terrain. To spend precious minutes addressing disrespect instead of delivering power.

Moore’s move was: I’m not playing.

He repositioned it as a leadership argument: leadership means building a table, integrity, making people feel like they belong here. And Trump’s behavior, he suggested, isn’t just beneath the office—it’s beneath the country.

That’s the best version of “don’t wrestle the pig.” You can’t win the mud contest. You can only refuse it.

Subscribe now

The racism question—and Moore’s most telling answer

Norah asked the question America always asks Black leaders like it’s a pop quiz: “Do you believe Trump is racist?”

Moore didn’t take the bait in the simplistic way. He didn’t do the cable-news “Yes, obviously” mic drop. He said (paraphrasing): ask Trump. But I can tell you how his actions land on Black people and people of color.

Then he ticked through the impact: assaults on HBCU scholarship programs, attacks on Black female employment, book bans, history minimization, and the grotesque “apes” imagery aimed at the Obamas.

That answer matters not because it’s clever—it’s because it’s strategic. Moore refused to let the conversation become a morality play about one man’s heart. He forced it back to outcomes.

Black people have been trapped in this cycle forever: prove the racism, explain the racism, document the racism, debate the racism—while living inside the consequences of the racism.

Moore’s answer was basically: you don’t need an admission when the evidence has a body count.

Immigration: the rare Democrat who said “Biden didn’t have it right” without self-sabotage

On immigration, Moore did something Democrats struggle to do: admit failure without handing over the whole argument.

He said what a lot of people already know: the immigration system is broken and Congress has punted for decades. He acknowledged the Biden years weren’t some clean, solved era—and then pivoted to what Democrats don’t do enough of: talking about competence and reform in the same sentence as human dignity.

He also drew a bright line around ICE enforcement practices and accountability—arguing that if untrained, unqualified, unaccountable agents are being deployed into communities, the state has a responsibility to keep people safe.

This is where “yes and now” either becomes real—or collapses. Because immigration is the kind of issue where “faster” can mean “crueler” if you aren’t careful. Moore’s pitch is that you can be decisive without becoming inhumane. Voters want order. They also want the country to still be the country.

That’s not easy. But it’s necessary.

Share

Epstein: “Accountability” is the last bipartisan language left

If there was one moment where you could feel the entire room—left, right, tired, cynical—lock into the same frequency, it was Epstein.

Moore called the details sickening and grotesque and demanded accountability for anyone found guilty—regardless of background or political affiliation. He pointed to the core trust problem: people feel like “we’ve known” for a long time and yet almost nobody has faced consequences.

This is bigger than Epstein. This is the institutional crisis in one sentence:

When people believe elites can harm children and still walk free, they stop believing anything else the system says.

They stop distinguishing between error and cover-up.
They stop trusting investigations.
They stop trusting courts.
They stop trusting journalists.
They stop trusting each other.

That’s how societies break.

Moore tapped into something real: America is spiritually exhausted from watching “accountability” be a slogan instead of a verb.

The most important exchange was with a Black Republican woman

And this is where Moore either earned his reputation—or proved he’s just another talented messenger.

A Black woman in the audience—registered Republican, digital media business owner, former Democrat—basically said what you hear more and more:

“I left because I got tired of racial framing on every issue that didn’t solve real problems like crime, failing schools, high taxes, and cost of living. How do you earn voters like me back who want results, not racial narratives?”

Here’s what Moore didn’t do:
He didn’t scold her.
He didn’t “well actually” her.
He didn’t treat her like a betrayal story.

He agreed with the premise that outcomes matter, and then reframed the assignment for Democrats: it’s not just to energize the base—it’s to enlarge it. Speak to everybody. Show up in places you lost. Deliver results, and people will find their political home where results live.

That answer is the only path forward.

Because the truth is: people don’t abandon Democrats because they suddenly love conservative ideology. A lot of times, they abandon Democrats because they don’t feel like Democrats are building a life that works.

Results are persuasive.
Lectures are not.

So what was this, really?

This was Wes Moore presenting himself as a different kind of Democrat: an operator with narrative skill. A leader who wants to move with urgency without losing legitimacy. Someone trying to be tough without being theatrical.

And if Democrats are serious about surviving the next few years, they need more than charismatic prosecutors of Trump.
They need governors who can show receipts.
They need leaders who can talk like adults and govern like the building is on fire.

Moore’s “yes and now” line is either a real governing philosophy—or it’s another slogan destined to die in a focus group.

But for one hour in Cambridge, he made the case that Democrats don’t have a messaging problem.

They have a velocity problem.

And in the era we’re in, slow isn’t thoughtful.

Slow is fatal.

This is episode one of something I’m bringing back — documenting the journey in real time, unfiltered, unpolished, and honest.

Not the highlight reel.
Not the “founder aesthetic.”
The real behind-the-scenes of building Kin Worldwide while life is still lifing.

What This Episode Is Really About

This first entry is the start of a pivot — not just for Kin, but for me.

I’ve been in a transition season, and one of the biggest truths I’m learning is simple:

Busy ain’t free.

Just because your schedule looks full and your life looks “active” doesn’t mean your mind is okay.
And it definitely doesn’t mean you’re operating like a CEO.

This is me stepping into a new level of clarity, discipline, and protection — because legacy requires structure.

Why I’m Documenting This (No Edits, No Filters)

I used to document my journey years ago. I stopped.
But I’m bringing it back because:

• People see motion and assume progress

• People see busyness and assume stability

• People see “work” and assume “winning”

And the truth is… you can look productive and still be drowning.

Kin Daily is my way of showing the real build.
The pivot. The pressure. The mindset. The moves. The mistakes. The lessons.

The Pivot: What Kin Is Becoming

A lot of people remember when Kin started out, aimed toward being a social media platform. I put some serious money into R&D trying to make that real — and I learned a lot from it.

But this season is different.

This season is Kin becoming what it was always supposed to be:
a real company, a real brand, a real legacy play — built by a CEO who’s doing this the right way.

The CEO Boundary Shift (My Word Is My Bond)

One of the main themes you’ll keep hearing from me in this series is boundaries.

Not soft boundaries.
Not “I’m working on it” boundaries.

I mean:

• My yes is YES

• My no is NO

• My word is my bond

Because if I’m building a billion-dollar brand, I can’t build it while being mentally unprotected or emotionally available to anything and everything.

What You Can Expect From Kin Daily

These entries aren’t scheduled like a TV show.

They’re going to be real snapshots in time:

• Some days you might get one

• Some days, you might get multiple

• But they will always live on Kin+ as the home base

And over time, you’re going to watch:

• The brand shift

• The marketing campaign get built

• The company get sharpened

• The CEO get forged

Episode 001 Takeaway

Busy Ain’t Free isn’t just a slogan.

It’s a warning.
It’s a mirror.
It’s a line in the sand.

Because looking successful while living chaotic isn’t freedom — it’s a trap with receipts.

Ask Yourself This (And Be Honest)

Where are you busy… but not free?

Drop it in the comments.
This series is going to be for the builders who want their life back.

Leave a comment

Most people treat selling like a random thunderstorm:

Disappear for weeks.
Show up outta nowhere.
“HEY Y’ALL, BUY MY THING.”

Then they swear, “people don’t support.”

Nah. You just never warmed them up.

Here’s a simple 5-post warm-up sequence you can use on ANY platform before you drop an offer—Black Friday, end-of-year, whatever.

Post 1 – The Mirror Post

Call out the real struggle of your people.

• “Black creators are tired of going viral and still being broke.”
  No pitch. Just say the quiet part out loud.

Post 2 – The Story Post

Share a quick story of when you were there, too.

• “I used to post every day and still couldn’t explain what I did. Here’s what changed…”

Post 3 – The Value Hit

Give 1 simple, actionable tip they can use TODAY.

• A DM script. A checklist. A caption formula. Make it easy.

Post 4 – The Vision Post

Paint the picture of what they actually want.

• “Imagine knowing exactly what to post for 30 days and exactly how it leads to money.”

Post 5 – The Invitation

Now—and only now—invite them.

• “I’m running something for folks who are done guessing. Comment ‘LOCKED IN’ and I’ll send you the details.”

That’s it. No begging. No desperation. Just rhythm.

On a gray Friday in Columbus, a jury walked back into Courtroom 5B and said, in the polite language of the law, what American juries have told Black families for generations: when a police officer says he was afraid, that fear weighs more than our lives.

The clerk read it out: not guilty on all counts. No murder. No manslaughter. No felonious assault.

Former Blendon Township officer Connor Grubb stood still. The defense table loosened its shoulders. On the other side of the room, the family of Ta’Kiya Young—a 21-year-old Black mother, seven months pregnant with a baby girl she’d already nicknamed “tiny lady”—absorbed the quiet violence of the words.

In the hallway, Young’s grandmother broke down on camera, shouting through tears that he got to walk away while her granddaughter and great-granddaughter were gone forever. It was not just grief; it was recognition. Anyone who has been Black and paying attention in this country knew exactly what had just happened, even if they didn’t know her name until that day.

Once again, the oldest unresolved question in American life pressed itself to the front:

What the verdict actually said

On August 24, 2023, officers confronted Young in a Kroger parking lot on Columbus’s northeast side after store staff accused her of shoplifting bottles of liquor. Body-camera footage shows two officers at her car: one at the driver’s door, one in front of the hood with his gun already drawn. Young cracks the window, denies stealing, asks, “Are you going to shoot me?” She turns on her turn signal. The car starts to roll forward at a crawl. The officer in front—Grubb—plants one hand on the hood, raises the other, and fires a single shot through the windshield into her chest. Her Lexus rolls away and drifts to a stop as her body collapses. She and her unborn daughter are later pronounced dead at the hospital.

Prosecutors charged Grubb with murder, involuntary manslaughter, and felonious assault. A judge dismissed four counts related to the fetus, ruling there wasn’t enough evidence he knew she was pregnant, but allowed the rest to proceed.

At trial, the core question wasn’t whether a suspected low-level theft should ever end in death. It wasn’t whether a trained officer should choose to stand in front of a car and escalate the encounter with a gun already drawn. Legally, the question shrank down to this:

Did Grubb reasonably fear for his life when he pulled the trigger?

The defense argued that when Young’s car moved, Grubb believed he was about to be run over, making deadly force justified. The prosecution countered that he created the danger by stepping in front of the vehicle and that a slowly moving car in a parking lot did not pose a lethal threat.

Under the Supreme Court’s Graham v. Connor standard, an officer’s use of force must be judged from the perspective of a “reasonable officer on the scene,” not a civilian watching the replay on YouTube. That doctrine, now decades old, bends the law around police perceptions of danger—perceptions soaked in a culture that has long treated Black bodies as inherently threatening. Legal scholars have argued for years that this is why prosecutions are so rare.

The numbers are stark. Since 2005, roughly 20,000 people have been killed by police in the United States. In that same period, about 200 officers total have been arrested for on-duty murder or manslaughter—around 1 percent of fatal police shootings. Of those, only a fraction have been convicted of any crime, and just a handful of those convictions have been for murder.

Put differently: out of more than 20,000 people killed by police in two decades, fewer than four out of every 1,000 deaths have led to any criminal conviction for the officer involved—and almost none have been called what they look like from the outside: murder.

That’s not a bug in the system. That is the system.

So when the jury told the world that Young’s killing did not meet the threshold for criminal accountability, they weren’t handing down an anomaly. They were joining a chorus.

Columbus is not an exception. It’s a map.

Columbus has quietly become one of the country’s clearest case studies in how this pattern plays out.

In 2020, a Franklin County sheriff’s deputy killed Casey Goodson Jr., shooting him in the back as he entered his home with a bag of Subway sandwiches. Weeks later, Columbus officer Adam Coy shot and killed Andre Hill, an unarmed Black man, in a neighbor’s garage after mistaking his cellphone for a gun. Coy was eventually convicted of murder—making him the first on-duty officer in Columbus, and in all of Ohio, to be convicted of murder for killing someone while on duty.

Around those cases are others:

• Ma’Khia Bryant, 16, shot within seconds of officers arriving at a chaotic fight outside her foster home.

• Donovan Lewis, killed in his bed when an officer serving a warrant fired almost immediately after opening the door, later claiming he thought a vape pen was a gun.

Each incident had its own facts. Each sparked its own outrage. Each followed a familiar chain: encounter → escalation → lethal force → legal ambiguity → institutional defensiveness.

Coy’s conviction is treated as evidence that the system can work when it wants to. Young’s case is a reminder of how rarely it wants to.

After the verdict, attorney Sean Walton, who represents Young’s family, called it “an American tragedy” and emphasized that he did not blame the jury as much as the legal standard they were given. If the law is designed to privilege police fear over Black life, then the outcome, he suggested, is baked in.

The local police union, meanwhile, framed the acquittal as vindication—not just of Grubb, but of police power itself. The Fraternal Order of Police had called the indictment “politically motivated” from the start; after the verdict, it praised the jury and thanked them for seeing the case “for what it was.”

Read the two reactions side by side and you see the split-screen Black America has been living in for generations:

• For the family, this was confirmation that their granddaughter’s life could be taken with impunity.

• For the union, this was confirmation that the system still knows whose fear counts most.

They keep telling us who we are.

What the law hears vs. what we hear

Inside the courtroom, “reasonableness” is supposed to be neutral. Jurors are instructed to imagine themselves as officers, feel the adrenaline, and picture the split-second decision.

Outside the courtroom, Black communities are still asking a different set of questions:

• Why is an officer’s fear unquestioned while a Black person’s fear of police is treated as irrational?

• Why is the jury told to see the world through the officer’s eyes but never through the eyes of the person who ends up dead?

• How many times can you watch this movie before you admit it has a script?

The legal system cares deeply whether an officer’s fear meets the threshold of “reasonable.” It rarely asks whether the underlying fear itself is the problem—fear trained by a culture that has coded Blackness as a threat for centuries.

That’s the piece the courtroom can’t hold. It’s also the piece our culture has been screaming about in the only court that consistently hears us: the arts.

The unofficial Black law library

Long before body-camera footage forced the country to look at what Black communities already knew, our artists had been documenting the pattern—song by song, verse by verse.

In 1996, Michael Jackson released “They Don’t Care About Us,” a raw, percussive indictment of police brutality and state violence. One video was filmed in a U.S. prison, surrounded by incarcerated men; another in Brazilian favelas. At the time, critics called it excessive, even inflammatory. In retrospect, it reads like a news bulletin that arrived twenty years early.

Two decades later, Common and John Legend wrote “Glory” for Ava DuVernay’s film Selma. The song won an Oscar, but more importantly, it connected the march across the Edmund Pettus Bridge to today’s protests in Ferguson, Baltimore, Minneapolis, and Columbus. In their acceptance speech, Legend reminded the audience that more Black men were under correctional control in 2015 than were enslaved in 1850.

Then there’s Kendrick Lamar—a one-man cross-examination in a hoodie.

His catalog lives at the intersection of confession, prophecy, and prosecution. Behind the gossip and memes around a track like “Not Like Us” is a deeper project: drawing a line between those who truly belong to a community and those who feed off it. When he urges people to unplug from TV broadcasts and social feeds that loop Black suffering on an endless reel, he’s not being anti-media. He’s being anti-propaganda. He’s telling us: If you don’t own the frame, your pain is just programming.

Taken together, these songs—and dozens more like them—form an unofficial Black law library.

• They document patterns the court treats as irrelevant “prior incidents.”

• They hold a memory longer than any news cycle.

• They put the state on the stand and force it to answer questions it never hears under oath.

So when another verdict comes back not guilty, when another lawyer tells us an officer’s fear was understandable, we’re not starting from scratch. We’re hearing the ruling with Michael’s fury, Common and Legend’s lament, and Kendrick’s boundaries playing in the background.

The courts keep telling us who we are. The music keeps answering back: We already know. We’ve been knowing.

Beyond preaching to the choir

Critics sometimes say that essays like this “preach to the choir”—that the people who read them already believe the system is rigged, and the people who don’t will never make it past the headline.

There’s some truth there. Black readers don’t need more “awareness.” They need less premature deaths.

But here’s the thing about choirs: they’re not just there to be preached at. They’re there to sing.

Trials like Grubb’s are designed, almost by definition, to scrub out context. Jurors are told to look only at the seconds before the shot. Prior incidents, departmental patterns, the city’s history with police violence—most of that stays outside the door, treated as prejudicial.

Art, journalism, and community memory do the opposite. They lay cases side by side.

They say:

Here is Tamir Rice. Here is Philando Castile. Here is Sandra Bland. Here is George Floyd. Here is Breonna Taylor. Here is Casey Goodson Jr. Here is Andre Hill. Here is Ta’Kiya Young.

Now tell me again, this is about one bad decision in one parking lot.

The point isn’t just to persuade the unconvinced. It’s to give the already-convinced a shared story, language, and strategy—to turn solitary grief into collective clarity.

Which brings us to the real question: What now?

From protest to power: four fronts of the fight

If all we do after this verdict is march, post, and move on, we will be back here in a few months with a new name and the same arguments.

The work ahead lives on at least four fronts.

1. Wage asymmetric legal warfare

If the system understands anything, it’s cost.

Right now, the financial risk of killing us is low. Cities pay settlements; insurance helps cover it; budgets keep rolling. As long as fatal force is cheaper than reform, nothing fundamental changes.

“Asymmetric legal warfare” means:

• Relentless civil litigation—not just against individual officers, but against departments and municipalities that tolerate patterns of abuse.

• Targeted impact suits that force disclosure of training materials, internal communications, and disciplinary records—turning discovery into public education.

• Coordinated legal strategies so that wins in one jurisdiction become templates for others, instead of isolated victories.

In Columbus, for example, Andre Hill’s family secured a multi-million-dollar settlement and helped push through “Andre’s Law,” which requires officers to render aid and activate body-cams. That’s not justice. But it’s a small example of making negligence expensive enough that departments have to change behavior, not just messaging.

This isn’t about believing the system will suddenly grow a conscience. It’s about making it too costly—for city budgets, for police unions, for political careers—to keep treating Black death as a line item.

2. Treat police violence as a public-health crisis

Every killing like Young’s sends shock waves through a community. Researchers have found that highly publicized police killings of unarmed Black people are associated with spikes in mental-health issues among Black Americans, including anxiety and depression.

That means trauma is not just personal; it’s population-level.

If we’re serious about survival, we have to build infrastructures of care:

• Free or low-cost counseling specifically for families and communities impacted by police violence.

• Grief circles and healing spaces led by therapists, clergy, and community elders after major cases.

• Media practices that cover these stories without replaying Black death on loop for ratings.

Otherwise, “turn the TV off” becomes the only sane option—and our coping mechanism becomes a kind of forced disengagement from public life.

3. Build our own archives

The official record of police violence in this country is scattered and incomplete. Departments under-report. Federal databases are voluntary and patchy. Most of what we know comes from journalists, academics, and a handful of determined nonprofits.

We need Black-led archives that don’t just store information, but protect memory and agency.

That looks like:

• Searchable, community-controlled databases where every use of deadly force is logged, tracked, and followed—not just the cases that go viral.

• Timelines that show what happens after the headline: charges, pleas, trials, settlements, policy changes—or the silence.

• Narrative profiles that keep our people human: not just mugshots, but voice notes, photos, dreams, favorite colors, the text messages they sent the night before.

In a better world, Ta’Kiya Young isn’t just a case number in a PDF. She’s a full profile: her dreams of becoming a social worker, her love of pink, her applications for housing, her vision of stability for her sons. Data that her family has a say over. A story no outside algorithm can quietly bury when the trending topic changes.

4. Own the platforms that tell the story

This is where protest meets power.

Every time a Black person is killed by police, our grief becomes content. Cable news loops the footage. Social media harvests the engagement. Platforms whose algorithms routinely bury Black creators’ work have no problem amplifying Black trauma.

If we don’t own the platforms, we are the product.

So the long-term answer to “Do Black lives really matter?” cannot just be: We hope the courts start treating us better. It has to be: We are building the digital, cultural, and economic infrastructure where our lives are non-negotiable from the start.

That’s the work I’m trying to do with Kin Worldwide—a Black-owned media and tech ecosystem being built out of Columbus and beyond. The goal is simple and radical:

• Platforms where the energy of the barbershop, the block, and the boardroom converge.

• Spaces where Black creators, journalists, lawyers, and organizers decide which stories lead—not distant editors chasing ratings.

• Tools that help families control how their loved ones’ images and names are used.

• A home for the “unofficial Black law library”—the music, the reporting, the oral histories—that keeps our memory sharper than any official report.

Kin isn’t the only effort like this. But it’s my stake in the ground, my answer to a country that keeps putting us on trial even when we’re the ones in the casket.

The point is not to build a branded bunker. The point is to build infrastructure—places where our dead are not reduced to exhibits and our living are not reduced to eyeballs.

The verdict isn’t the last word—unless we let it be

Ta’Kiya Young will never get to enroll in a social-work program. She will never sign a lease on the apartment she hoped would give her boys their own rooms. Her daughter will never wear the pink outfits waiting for her.

The court has spoken on what happened in that Kroger parking lot. The police union has claimed vindication. The news has mostly moved on to the next crisis.

But the story isn’t over unless we agree to end it here.

Black music will go on documenting the pattern. Black communities will go on carrying the grief. Black parents will go on having “the talk” that white parents don’t need.

The question is what we build in response.

Do Black lives really matter in America?

• If you look only at the verdicts, the answer is: not enough to consistently outweigh a uniform’s fear.

• If you look at what we are starting to build—legal strategies that raise the cost of killing us, archives that won’t forget us, platforms that we own—the answer can become something else.

The courts will keep saying “not guilty.”
We have to build the institutions that answer back.

That’s the work in front of us now: to turn the wail in that courthouse hallway into policy, into platforms, into power.

The state has given its verdict.

Our verdict will be written in what we build next.

For the last decade, we’ve been feeding everybody else’s machine.

We gave them our jokes, our dances, our think pieces, our pain, our genius. They turned it into valuation, ad revenue, stock prices, and “year in review” decks to show rich folks how profitable our culture is.

And what did most of us get?

A couple of viral moments, an unsteady bag, and a whole lotta “The algorithm ain’t showing my stuff.”

Here’s the truth nobody wants to say out loud:

If we don’t own the platform, we are the product.
If we don’t own the system, we are the fuel.

Heading into Black Friday, every platform is about to hit you with “boost this,” “promote that,” and “run ads now.” They want your last bit of attention, energy, and money before the year ends.

I’m not here to tell you not to post.

I’m here to tell you: post like you’re building your own house, not renting someone else’s apartment.

That looks like:

• Pointing people back to your email list, not just your timeline.

• Building your own community, not just followers.

• Using platform traffic to feed your owned ecosystem, not their quarterly earnings.

That’s literally why Kin exists: a digital home where Black creators and Black-owned brands connect, build, and OWN IT ALL.

This season, we stop begging algorithms and start building infrastructure.

Welcome home.

If you’re tired of powering everybody else’s platform for free, come inside myKin, our free community for Black creators and entrepreneurs. That’s where we’re actually building the systems behind these newsletters.

P.S. If this hit you, forward it to one creator or one Black-owned business that needs to read it today.

“Support Black-owned.”
“Share this post.”
“Tell a friend to tell a friend.”

I love the intention.
But let’s be real…

A lot of Black-owned and culture-forward brands are heading into Black Friday with:

• One last-minute flyer

• A random reel or two

• No real promo plan

…and then we get mad at the algorithm when the numbers don’t move.

This year, I want to show you a different way.

Instead of just talking about “content,” I want you to see the kind of promo we can put in your hands.

Example 1: Short Promo for a Service-Based Brand

This first video is built for a service business – clean, simple, straight to the point.

Notice a few things:

• It hooks you in the first couple of seconds

• It clearly says who it’s for and what problem it solves

• It’s vertical and ready for Reels, TikTok, Shorts, FB

• It feels like something you’d actually stop and watch while scrolling

Now imagine this same energy, language, and structure…
but built specifically around your offer for Black Friday or the holidays.

Example 2: Creator / Brand Promo

This second video has more of a personal + brand story feel.

It works perfectly when you want to:

• Put a face to the brand

• Make an announcement or push a new offer

• Build trust while still moving people to act

Again, the focus is the same:

• Clear message

• Tight edit

• Social-first format

• Built for our people, with our voice

So What Does the Kin360 Black Friday Package Actually Include?

If you run a Black-owned or culture-driven business and your content is not where you want it to be for Black Friday / Small Business Saturday / holiday season…

Here’s what I’m offering through Kin360 right now:

🧱 Kin360 “Start Smart” Black Friday Promo Package

You get:

• 2 short promo videos (20–30 seconds each)

• Captions you can literally copy-paste into IG/FB/TikTok

• A simple posting plan (what to post, when, and where)

• Light scripting / angle help so you’re not guessing what to say

• Turnaround in about 5–7 days once we have your info + assets

• Produced by under-25K Black creators who understand the culture and your audience

Flat rate: $649

This is for you if:

• You’re a Black-owned or culture-forward brand (restaurant, boutique, product, service, creative studio, etc.)

• You know you should be promoting more, but you’re already doing ten jobs

• You’d rather run the business and let someone else run the promos

How It Works

1. You raise your hand

   • Reply to this email with “PROMO”

   • Or hit the link: addyourlandingpagelinkhereadd your landing page link hereaddyourlandingpagelinkhere

2. Quick intake

   • I’ll send you a short form about your business, your audience, and your Black Friday / holiday offer.

3. We lock in the angle

   • Quick call or email back-and-forth to decide what the 2 videos will focus on.

4. My team gets to work

   • Our creators and editors build the promos, write the captions, and map the posting plan.

5. You get your promo kit

   • 2 videos + captions + posting plan delivered in a shared folder, ready to upload.

Why I’m Doing This

Kin360 sits inside the bigger vision for Kin Worldwide – a Black-owned media & tech ecosystem where:

• We don’t just appear in campaigns… we own the campaigns

• We don’t just trend on someone else’s platform… we build our own lanes

• We don’t just say “Buy Black”… we build the infrastructure that helps Black businesses actually grow

Content is part of that infrastructure.

So this Black Friday, I’m not just telling you to “show up.”
I’m offering to help you show up well.

If you’re already fully covered for content this season, I salute you.

If you’re reading this like, “Yeah, I’ve been meaning to figure this out,” then this is for you.

👉🏾 Reply “PROMO” to welcomehomekin@gmail.com

Either way, keep building.
We’re going to Own It All – one brand, one story, one campaign at a time.